Red Kryptonite
by Saritadreaming
Summary: Edward Masen: Bounty hunter. Isabella Swan-Hunter: Bail jumper. He's hired to bring her back for trial, but he's not prepared for what happens once he gets a taste of her. Death, lies, betrayal, toxicity, hope, desire. Who will survive? AU/VAMP
1. Chapter 1 Hunt the Hunter

**A/N: Huge thanks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy and Aleea, for their valuable input and feedback. I'm eternally grateful to my awesome betas, jkane180, wmr601, and Katmom, for wielding their Sparkly Reds and helping rein in my stream-of-consciousness writing.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**~Hunt the Hunter~**

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><p><strong>~*Edward*~<strong>

The early morning sky is filled with pale streaks of color as the sun rises on another day. I watch it from the window of my twelfth floor apartment. Down below, the people of Port Angeles are beginning their day: buying a paper from the newsstand, getting their morning coffee at _Starbucks_, hailing cabs, catching buses, walking quickly along the sidewalks. From up here, I can see them clearly, feel them clearly, _hear_ them clearly.

With a sigh, I rub my hand over my bare chest. Apathy has set in, and I long for something—anything—that can overlie the weariness that I'm not supposed to be able to feel.

The girl in my bed stirs, sitting up as she lets out a wide yawn. Finally, her blue eyes seek out my form leaning beside the window, and she takes me in, her eyes roving over the low slung, black sleep pants to linger on the bare skin of my torso. Subconsciously, she licks her lips, thinking back to last night when I picked her up in a bar six blocks away. She eye-fucked me as I played the piano at _Scottie's_, and I decided to take her home.

"You need to leave," I say quietly.

"What?" she asks, confused. Her mind was moving along the lines of another romp in bed.

"I have early appointments today, but I thoroughly enjoyed my time with you." _Well, __half __of__ that __is __true__—__I __enjoyed __my__ time __with __her,__ although__ not __for __the __reason __she's __thinking._

"Oh, sure." Her voice and mind are dripping with disappointment. "Will I... see you again?"

"It could happen, but my business takes me all over the country, and I tend to move around a lot." I walk over to the bed and take her hand, placing a kiss on the back of it. "Having you was my great pleasure." _The __taste __was __delectable._

A tempting blush rises to her cheeks as I help her out of bed and into her clothes. Thankfully, she's not outwardly clingy and leaves without argument.

I don't know her name, but it doesn't matter because I'll never see her or taste her blood again.

My cell vibrates on the nightstand, and I snatch it up, noting the display shows: _unknown__ caller_.

"Masen."

"It's me."

"What?" I ask curtly.

"You're going to be offered a job later today. Make sure you accept."

"I'm dying for a job, Alice. Why _wouldn't_ I accept, and why do you care?"

Alice Brandon-Whitlock is my... sister, for better lack of a term. I haven't seen or spoken to her for five years, and yet she expects me to follow her guidance—just like that. Nothing ever changes in our screwed up version of a family, which is why I'm out on my own, doing my own thing—living a lifestyle none of them approve of.

"Just trust me, Edward."

"I've heard _that_ before." I roll my eyes. "Anything else?" I ask impatiently.

"Come home." There's a quiver in her voice, and it incites a flicker of anger inside me.

"Not happening. Talk to you some year, Alice."

Before she can protest, I hang up on her. _Interfering __little __pixie._ I only decide to keep her request in mind because, as much as I hate to admit it, she's usually right.

Five minutes later, my phone rings again.

"Masen!" I snap, thinking it's likely Alice on the other end, ready to spew more platitudes.

"Good morning, Edward. I have a job offer for you." The person on the other end of the line is Jason Jenks, shady attorney and purveyor of certain jobs out for hire. Nobody reaches me with assignments except through him.

"Set up a meeting with the client and let me know the time."

I always meet with my clients before accepting a job, so I can ascertain their true intentions for myself.

"That's the thing... the client, Senator James Hunter, is out of the country. He did specifically request you, however."

"Did he now? What's the job?"

"I can't disclose the details unless you agree to take it on."

Normally, I'd tell Jenks to advise _Senator_ Hunter to go fuck himself, but I'm bored to the tears I can no longer shed. It's something intriguing—at least in the short term—and Alice _did_ urge me to take a job I would be offered today.

"I'll do it for double my usual fee, plus expenses. How do I get the info?" I don't need the extra money; I'm just being a prick.

"Done. I'll courier over the dossier. I think you'll find it intriguing."

"I rather doubt that." A sardonic smile plays over my lips. There isn't much that can catch my interest anymore. One hundred plus years of this existence, living among this most predictable of species, has fallen flat.

"I'll talk to you soon, Edward," he says hesitantly before disconnecting.

Jenks suspects I'm something _other_, but so far, he hasn't even come close to figuring out _what_ I am.

My name is Edward Masen, and I'm a bounty hunter. A vampire bounty hunter able to read the minds of my quarry, which greatly assists me in ascertaining their guilt or innocence. I also have a hobby of drinking blood—both from those I hunt and those who hunt me; I tend to be quite popular with the ladies.

The members of my former 'family' don't approve of my habit of feeding off humans. They all subsist on animal blood—a practice that turns my stomach. It's unnatural to attempt to deny our vampire nature. On the other hand, I understand their desire not to kill innocents. Those I kill deserve death. The vile filth, the dregs of society, are deaths easily justified, but I find that women in the throes of sexual pleasure taste best, which is why I employ the art of seduction. I get what I need, and in return, the ladies receive an experience that transports them to the heights of ecstasy. Once I'm between their legs, they rarely notice the slight sting of my sharp thumb nail as I gain access to their femoral vein. After drinking of their velvet wine while playing with and suckling on their heated, moist flesh, I simply close the wound with a swipe of my venom-coated tongue, and they are none the wiser. Far more fun than making a kill and needing to dispose of the remains. Everybody wins.

An hour later, I hold a manila folder with the details of my next job.

**Subject: **Isabella Marie Swan-Hunter, Age 26

**Reason ****for**** Warrant:** Jumping bail

**Charge(s):** Attempted murder; no specifics provided

**Assignment:** Take the subject into custody and deliver for trial on March 3rd

**Hobbies/Interests: **Not provided

**Background:** Daughter of Charles Swan, former Chief of Police of Forks, Washington, deceased, and Renee Harper Swan, housewife, deceased. Graduated Washington State at top of class. Married Senator James Hunter immediately after college four years ago. No priors. Has been out of the public eye due to a mysterious illness which remains undisclosed at this time.

I continue on. This has to be the sketchiest dossier I've ever received. The girl is squeaky clean: no priors, not even a parking ticket. She's been absent from the public eye for nearly three years, which is a small miracle considering she's married to a senator. According to the charges, she tried to kill her husband when she 'allegedly' caught him in flagrante with his press secretary.

A photo is clipped to the inside flap of the folder. It's a well-worn black and white photo of a young woman with long, dark hair. Her skin appears pale, and her eyes don't meet the camera. She's gazing off to the side, but by the set of her jaw and the tense posture, I'm going to wager she wasn't happy the day this was taken. The background of the photo depicts grass and trees, and I can see the corner of what looks like a large house off in the distance. A man in a dark suit that screams _'security'_ is hovering just behind her. I'm going to venture a guess this photo was taken at Senator Hunter's estate.

Considering I'm being hired by the senator to find his errant wife and drag her back for trial, he's provided scant information. Because I'm bored, and this is a bit of a challenge, I'll take the job. The obvious lack of information suggests there's more to the story than meets the eye. Since the senator wasn't available for me to interview, I'll just have to read his wife's mind to determine her innocence or guilt. After all, I may be a bored vampire, but I have a strong sense of ethics when it comes to my work as a bounty hunter. I never take in innocents; I simply return the fee and beg off. Still, my track record is better than any human bounty hunter. There's no way a bail jumper can run far or fast enough to escape a vampire.

The only bounty hunter that has a slightly better track record than me—due to his blatant _lack_ of ethics—is Demetri. I try to stay out of his way, but on occasion, we butt heads.

Demetri cut himself loose from the Volturi—the vampire royalty who make the rules for my kind—with the agreement that they could 'hire' him at any time for his tracking services. I have no idea how he cajoled them into such an agreement, since the mere _suggestion_ of leaving their ranks has often been met with a purple cloud of smoke as the offending vampire is dismembered and burned.

Firing up my laptop, I do my own research. Isabella Swan-Hunter hasn't been seen publicly for three years. Unheard of. The back of the picture I was provided is date-stamped six months ago, and she doesn't look ill—she looks unhappy and bored, but she _was_ standing under her own power. Regardless of her health status, she has to be a drag on the senator's campaign.

I bring up a few press conferences and find that any reporter that dares to bring up Isabella is immediately shut down by the senator—politely, but there's a steeliness in his eyes. Sampling conferences over a year-long span, I find that reporters have been trained not to ask about her because the senator doesn't call on those who dare to bring her up at future appearances—it's the equivalent of being black-balled. Interesting.

Apparently, Senator Hunter is a prime candidate for the presidency—at least, he was until his wife tried to kill him. Now he's dropped from the public eye with the excuse that his family is 'devastated' and asking the public to 'respect his privacy during this dark time.' Even more interesting. Depending which way he spins this, he could still end up in The White House.

I'm definitely taking this job. I dial Jenks on my cell.

"Jason Jenks."

"I'm taking the Swan-Hunter job."

"I had a feeling you would." Jenks sounds smug.

"All other job requests are on hold until I complete this one. I have a feeling it's going to take up much of my time."

I hang up before he responds, my mind already occupied with doing more research into Isabella Swan-Hunter.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: This story has been running around in my head since last year, and when a fundraiser for one of our own, Mal (Mostlyalurker), came up, it was tapping at my heart. Naturally, it went out of control, growing beyond a one-shot. The portion being donated to the fundraiser is about 10K words and is only the first half of the story. Part two is being written, and the entire story will be posted in chapters starting in January, once the fundraiser is over. Please consider making a donation, and you will receive a compilation of stories by many talented authors. Beta services—including my own—are also up for bid. The link to Mal's fundraiser is on my profile.**

**If you'd like to read the rest of this story, please add to alerts. Chapters will begin posting weekly after January 1st and will continue until the story is completed. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2 Uncle Lou's Cabin

**A/N: Hello everyone! The first few chapters of this story are of varying lengths, some shorter than others, but the average will be 3-4K per chapter. Unlike some of my other stories (which also have _much longer _chapters) most of this story is already written and will post weekly on Tuesdays until finished.**

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesomely encouraging prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.  
><strong>

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**~Uncle Lou's Cabin~**

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><p>After a few hours of hard digging, I don't have much. The one chink I sense in her armor is a Miss Angela Weber. She's the only person who has known Isabella since grammar school and remained in her life. Isabella has no family, few acquaintances, and no true friends other than Angela as far as I can tell.<p>

When Isabella was seventeen, her father was killed in the line of duty during a holdup. This doesn't set off any red flags until I discover that Renee Swan, Isabella's mother, was killed by a hit-and-run driver in the middle of the day in downtown Forks the same year.

I lean back in my chair, gazing out the window. The sky is gray and hazy. The sun's rays are dampened by the heaviness of the cloud cover, only managing to peek through in spots. I feel much the same about this case: the more I dig, the more convoluted things become.

Forks is a small, quiet town with only one traffic light. What is the likelihood both of Isabella's parents met with deadly ends within the same year? Statistically, not likely.

Moving on, I research family properties and inheritances and come up empty. The Swans lived a thrifty existence, and neither of them thought to obtain life insurance, leaving Isabella with a paid-off home, partial college fund, and little else. Digging deeper into her education, I find that the remainder of her college was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. Again, when added to previous events, this sends red flags up for me. I'm not sure what the equation adds up to, but it doesn't seem simple.

My next order of business is to locate Angela Weber. I find her working in Seattle as an accountant. Hanging around her building during lunch hour, I spot her as soon as she exits the smoky glass doors. She schleps along with her head down, unaware of her surroundings. She's alone, rather than joining one of the many groups of chattering workers that exit her building.

I tail her until she reaches the small park two blocks down and settles herself on a bench with her paper sack lunch. There's something timid and mousy about her, although with her long, black hair and high cheekbones, she could actually be quite pretty if she made the effort.

Giving her a few minutes to relax on the bench, I stroll over slowly and sit next to her.

_Why the hell is he sitting on _my _bench? There are a million places to sit around here. I hope he's not some kind of pervert._ Her mind wanders over the self-defense class she took last year, planning how she will gouge my eyes, drop me with a knee to the groin, or slip my hold if I get my arms wrapped around her.

"Hello. Angela, isn't it?" I ask casually.

Nervously, she nudges her glasses back on her nose with her index finger and turns her head my way. "Y-yeah... who are you?" _Holy shit! This guy is an Adonis. How does he know _my_ name, and why is he talking to me?_

"Edward Masen," I answer then cut right to the chase. "I'm looking for Isabella."

There's a sharp intake of breath from Angela. "This conversation is over." Her mouth is set in a thin line.

"But we haven't even _had _a conversation yet." I smile easily, leaning closer to her with my arm thrown casually over the top of the bench.

"I have nothing to say." Angela tosses the apple she was eating into the paper bag and folds it over, jumping to her feet. She starts to stalk away but hesitates, turning back. Her dusky skin is mottled with anger. "No, wait! I do have something to say. You tell _James_ to go straight to hell!"

"James?" I question innocently.

"Tell him to leave her alone! She's not guilty of anything. Why can't he just let her go?" Angela wails then slaps a hand over her mouth. _Shit! I shouldn't have said so much._

"Where is she?"

"As if I'd tell you if I knew—which I don't!" _Nobody will ever think to look for her at Uncle Lou's cabin._

Angela can't walk away from me fast enough, but I'm no longer interested in her and remain on the bench for a time, quite satisfied with the end result of my snooping.

**~*RK*~**

Three days later, I travel across the country to a remote cabin in the backwoods of Pennsylvania. The property is owned by one Louis Diamonte, close personal friend of Reverend John Weber, father of Angela Weber, friend of Isabella Swan-Hunter. _Uncle Lou's cabin._

It's a rather ingenious place for Isabella to hide, except she's isolated out there and completely vulnerable to predators. It's a great place to get lost, not a great one to be found—and hunted.

I've done my research: checked Google Earth for a view of the area (the nearest neighbor is five miles away), found out what security system Lou Diamonte uses, hacked into the computer of the architect that built the cabin for a floor plan, and plotted out all possible _human_ escape routes.

When I reach the edge of the thick woods surrounding the clearing the cabin is nestled in, night has just fallen. A recent series of snowfalls has left everything blanketed in a thick layer of white; the mostly undisturbed snow looks like white glitter where the light of the risen moon glints off its surface. Ice crystals adorn every individual branch and twig of the trees, causing them to appear as if they've been dipped in jewels.

'Log cabin' seems to be an understated description of the dwelling before me. Yes, it's made of logs, but it has large windows, a second floor, a wraparound porch, and a shed the size of the average log cabin out back. Mr. Diamonte is quite wealthy, so I'm not really surprised. Next to the shed is the hulking shape of an SUV covered by eighteen inches of frozen-over snow.

I hover in the thick brush to the rear of the cabin. With my vampire hearing, I have no problem discerning what's going on inside.

One heartbeat.

Beating slow and steady.

_Tup-tup...tup-tup... tup-tup_

Someone scrapes food from a pan into a dish before placing it on what I assume to be a table because a moment later the legs of a chair scrape the floor.

A soft, feminine voice whispers, "Thank you, God, for this food and for all my blessings. Amen."

I hear the clink of silverware against china as she eats the food she prepared and thanked God for.

Why would someone on the lam—a would-be murderess—take the time to pray before eating?

After her meal is over and the dishes have all been washed and put away, she turns on the television and giggles as she watches Seinfeld reruns.

It takes me a little while, but I realize that I'm not hearing her thoughts. My gift usually strengthens once I know someone—like creating a bond—so I'm not immediately concerned.

A short while later, I hear her feet padding up the stairs—the muffled sound tells me she's barefoot and the steps are uncarpeted wood—and she gets ready for bed. I hear murmured words as she prays before climbing into the bed. Again, I realize I haven't heard any thoughts from her. Perhaps I need to be up close, although hers are the only thoughts for miles; I should be able to home in on her quite easily.

She seems to be at peace; that is, until she falls asleep.

The thrashing begins almost immediately.

Then mumbled words being to tumble from her lips, and her heart beats faster.

"Please, no... James, don't..."

_Tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup_

"The blood... no, no... not again."

_Tup-tup, tup-tup, tuptuptuptup_

"How could you? How could you _betray_ us this way?" Her voice is a plaintive wail now, her heartbeat erratic.

_Tup-tuptup-tuptup-tuptup-tup-tuptuptuptuptuptup_

"_Hannah!_" she screams, waking in her bed.

She heads down to the kitchen, and I hear the clank of the teakettle against the burner of the stove. While she goes about making her tea, she cries freely, sniffling and hiccuping.

Why shouldn't she openly cry? She's under the impression that she's out here all alone.

A twinge of guilt tickles my senses, but I quickly squash it. The girl might be a cold-blooded killer, and my job is to bring her to justice, not feel sorry she had a nightmare.

_Get it together, Masen._

After Isabella returns to her bed—since she called out 'James' in her sleep, I'm going to assume this is her now—I plan my next move. Stealthily leaping from the edge of the woods, I land softly beside the house; it wouldn't due to disturb the blanket of snow and tip off Isabella that she has company before I'm ready to reveal myself. I leave the power on, but I cut the cable and phone wires. Since there's a satellite dish, I assume the cable is for internet, and I don't want her to have access to outside communication. The alarm is rather useless out here since it would take police at least thirty minutes to reach the secluded cabin, but my research indicated a snip to the phone wire would render the alarm incapable of reaching the outside world. If it did go off, who would hear its lonely siren squalling deep in the woods?

For a moment, I feel like a psychotic stalker: cutting wires, plotting, playing voyeur. I'm learning about Isabella while she's under the impression she's alone... safe.

Part of me feels guilty. A larger part of me feels a tingle of anticipation.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: We've been laying the groundwork. Next chapter we'll meet Isabella Swan-Hunter, and things will begin _moving_. See you next week! (God, it feels good to say that!)**

**This fic is all from EPOV. Going forward, if there's something you'd like to see in Bella's POV, let me know in your review and I'll consider it if I write any outtakes.  
><strong>

**The holidays have been _busy_, and I'm behind on some of my fics. Updates _will_ be coming more regularly, and I thank you for your patience. Mwah!**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at) SaritaDreaming for fanfic or (at) SarahAisling for original fic. I'm also on Facebook as SarahAislingauthor.**


	3. Chapter 3 Guilty Innocence

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I appreciate the positive early response to the story. Thank you so much! I'll try my best to answer reviews, but I can't always get to all of them. Please know I read and treasure each and every one, and I appreciate those of you who take the time.**

** This chapter is a bit longer than the last one, and you'll get a bit more information. This story _will _unfold over time, so don't expect all secrets to be revealed too quickly.**

**Thanks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their valuable feedback and cheerleading skills.**

**Thank God for my lovely betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding those Sparkly Reds. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**Guilty Innocence**

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><p>The morning dawns gray and misty. Isabella stirs early, going about her day while I listen from the woods. Her breakfast consists of tea and scrambled eggs. I hear her crack the eggs and whisk them in a bowl, followed by the sizzle as they hit the surface of a heated frying pan.<p>

After eating, she hums to herself as she cleans the cabin: vacuuming, dusting, polishing.

My curiosity grows when I hear her in the kitchen starting on lunch, and I ease myself into the branches of a tree to catch a glimpse.

Her slight form is bent over the counter spreading mustard on a slice of bread, the long, dark hair falling in silken ribbons over her shoulders and obscuring most of her face. When she turns to get something, I really see her for the first time: soft brown eyes set in a heart-shaped face with a slightly upturned nose and plump lips that look as if they should hold more color than they do. Her skin, too, has a deathly pallor to it.

A chunk of ice falls from the top of the tree I'm perched in, landing in the snow with a soft _thump_, and I jump down, hiding amongst the trees.

Inside, the sounds of Isabella humming and preparing lunch continue, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Unable to see her, I close my eyes and listen to the sound of her off-key singing. I'm not sure what I'm waiting for; she's not going to proclaim her innocence or solidify her guilt while she's here by herself. I've yet to hear a perp give themselves away while alone—except in their minds. I _still_ hear nothing from Isabella's mind.

A sudden loud sound disturbs my thoughts. My eyes fly open to find Isabella several yards away at the bottom of the front steps, cocking a rifle, which is pointed at my chest.

Isabella's off-key singing still comes from _inside_ the cabin, yet there is only one heartbeat.

"Who the fuck are you?" she snaps.

Up until now, her heartbeat remained steady, but since she's thrown down the gauntlet, it races like a fluttering bird behind her ribcage.

I raise my hands, schooling my features into a reassuring expression. It would be very bad if Isabella shot me. Not only would the bullet be ineffectual against me, but it might bounce off my rock hard body and ricochet back at her.

"I'm Edward Masen," I answer softly.

Isabella tilts her head to the side, raking her eyes over me from head to toe and back. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? I've never heard of you, and you're trespassing."

"That rifle weighs almost as much as you; why don't you put it down, and we can talk?"

"Put it down? Surely you don't think me that gullible, _Mr. Masen._"

It appears we're at an impasse, so I decide to sit down, the soft snow giving way beneath me easily. "Here. Is this better? Surely a man sitting cross-legged can't hurt you."

"I'm fine as I am, thank you. What are you doing here?"

"Honestly? I came to find you, Isabella."

She gasps, tightening her hands on the gun as her skin pales even more, which seems impossible until it happens. "Who sent you?"

"I'm a bounty hunter. My job is to deliver you back to Seattle to stand trial for attempted murder."

She nibbles thoughtfully at her bottom lip, and inappropriate urges flood through me as my dick twitches. _Jesus, Masen, get a grip!_

"I'm not sure what to do with you now, Edward Masen. I won't be taken back, so you can leave or . . ."

"Or what?" I prompt.

"I can incapacitate you."

"Pardon?"

"Well, I'm not going to kill a man just doing his job . . . so, I'll have to shoot out your kneecaps. Don't worry; I'll send an ambulance once I'm safely away from here."

"You're going to shoot me in the knees?" I ask incredulously.

"Would you prefer some other region that will keep you from chasing after me?"

_Feisty. I like that. So does my cock apparently._

"You could tie me up," I suggest, lifting an eyebrow. The thoughts tumbling in my head have nothing to do with her restraining me; rather, the image behind my eyes is of her trussed to my bed.

"Unbelievable!" she sputters, raising the shotgun to her shoulder as she moves closer.

Only now do I realize she's out in the snow wearing fluffy pink slippers with sweat pants and a t-shirt. I would laugh if it wasn't for the look in her eyes. She's really going to shoot me! I can't allow it.

Before Isabella can blink, I'm up off my feet, and in one fluid movement, I snatch the gun from her hands and toss it into the woods. Stepping around behind her, I pull her back against my chest, pinning her arms to her sides. All of this takes one point three seconds.

"Wha . . ." Her head shakes back and forth, looking for me, for her gun, but she soon realizes her predicament. "Oh, fuck," she mutters, going limp in my arms.

"Isabella?"

"Please don't break me," she whispers.

"Break you? Why should I do that?"

"Because I was trying to escape. I'll be good; I promise."

The scent of adrenaline and fear is overwhelming; it's obvious she thinks I'm going to hurt her, not bring her in for trial. I wonder why.

"I have no intentions of _breaking_ you or harming you in any other way. I have nothing personal against you; I was simply hired to do a job."

Isabella's answer is a derisive snort.

I want to look in her eyes. I want to know why I can't hear her. My nose is buried in her hair, which smells clean and fresh. She intrigues me, stimulates me, in multiple ways.

_What's wrong with you, man? This isn't a shampoo commercial, and you're not here to seduce her. _Although if circumstances were different, Isabella Swan-Hunter would most definitely be sharing my bed tonight.

I'm not sure why I'm having so much trouble suppressing my urges, but I recognize the need to get myself under control.

"Let's get you inside; you must be freezing out here in those ridiculous slippers," I say, turning us toward the open front door, where her off-key singing continues.

"These slippers are awesome!" she retorts.

It's awkward, but I manage to walk us into the house with my arms still wrapped around her. Once we're inside, I shove the door closed with my boot.

"I'm going to let go of you, Isabella. Don't try anything because I _will_ protect myself if necessary."

"Understood."

I let go, stepping back from her.

She stands stock still for about twenty seconds before making her way slowly to the couch in the living room. Steeling herself, she turns to face me, sitting down as she does. Her eyes focus on my boots, slowly moving up my denim clad legs and over my parka to my face. She skips my eyes, her gaze roving over my tousled hair before heading back to the floor. I find it curious that although she took me in carefully, she never once met my eyes.

She wouldn't find anything amiss because I wear contact lenses to hide the burgundy hue. Granted, I have to carry several pairs with me because the venom in my eyes breaks them down over the course of a day. The contacts obscure my excellent vision slightly; a small price to pay for the taste of the sweet, sweet blood of ladies that allow me to take them home.

Leaning forward, Isabella snatches a remote off the coffee table and presses a button. The sound of off-key singing ceases.

Impressed, I raise my eyebrows. _She sure faked you out, Masen._

"You knew I was outside, and you did a bait and switch?"

"You bet," she answers with a touch of pride in her voice. "Not that it did me much good. I never had a chance against you, did I?"

I wonder what she means by that. If I was human, she would have gotten away quite easily.

"You did well, Isabella. You really did."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not." I crouch on the other side of the coffee table, trying to catch her eye, but she still refuses to look at me. "If circumstances were different, your ploy would have worked fine."

I can't explain why, but a part of me is rooting for her, and I don't even know if she's guilty or innocent yet.

"Yes, circumstances," she mutters with a resigned sigh. "So what now, Edward Masen?"

"Now I want to know if you're guilty or innocent."

"Well, _that's _a loaded question."

"Did you try to kill your husband?"

"Yes," she answers simply.

"I guess I have my answer then. We leave in the morning. That should give you time to gather your things."

"Aren't you afraid I might escape while you sleep?"

"Actually, no." I fight back a smirk.

Standing up, I move to the living room window and watch the sun beginning to set behind the trees. _She's guilty. I have to bring her back._ A much larger part of me than I care to admit wanted her to be innocent.

A tangy scent hits my nose, one I haven't smelled in quite some time but recognize nonetheless. Tears. Turning her way, I see twin tracks making their way down her cheeks. She looks despondent. To be expected, I suppose.

"I – I need to eat soon. May I get up?"

"By all means."

Isabella stands on shaking legs, her eyes cutting to the refrigerator then back to me.

"You're going to watch me?"

"Every move, I'm afraid."

Her eyes flutter closed, and she moves to the kitchen area. There really are no separate rooms on the first floor; the living room simply segues into the kitchen. She hesitates, again looking toward the refrigerator.

"Is there a problem?"

"Other than you breathing down my neck, you mean?" she snaps then presses her palm to her forehead. Swaying, she grips the edge of the counter, and I rush to her side to steady her.

"Isabella?"

She stiffens at the feel of my hands on her arms, drawing in a sharp breath. Her heart is beating hard against her ribs, and I can scent adrenaline in the air. Turning her gently to face me, I tilt her stubborn chin up until she finally looks into my eyes. Her soft brown eyes are so soulful and kind, even though she's angry. Gazing into them, I don't want to believe she's a murderess. Once her eyes lock onto mine, Isabella seems to have no problem holding them there. Her brows arch up a vague expression of surprise. What was it she was expecting to see?

"Are you all right?" I ask.

"No. But that seems to be my lot in life." She smiles slightly. "I need something from the fridge."

"If you're not feeling well, I can prepare something for you. I'm not good in a kitchen, but I can make a sandwich or something."

Her body starts to collapse, and I help her over to one of the chairs at the small, rustic wooden table.

"I need . . . I need medicine. On the shelf in the door of the refrigerator."

Moving away from her, I open it. There are boxes lined up, filling all the shelves of the door.

_Neupogen._

I turn sharply. "Neupogen?"

"Yes."

"Why are you taking Neupogen?"

"Leukemia," she whispers just as she slumps over in the chair.

Scooping her limp body into my arms, I carry her up the stairs to her bedroom. She weighs nothing, so thin. Now the unhealthy pallor of her skin makes sense. Peeling back the covers, I deposit her gently on the bed. A sheen of sweat coats her skin, and her body starts to tremble. I press a hand to her forehead, and it's obvious she has a fever.

Wetting a washcloth, I wring it out and place it on her forehead. Covering her with the sheet, I zip downstairs to get the medication. I find syringes in the drawer nearest the refrigerator and am back upstairs in less than a minute.

Isabella is light as a feather, so I draw up 300mcg of Neupogen in the syringe. While I'm swabbing her arm with an alcohol pad, she opens her eyes groggily. "Wha . . . you doing?"

"Giving you the Neupogen. Hold still."

"No!" Her eyes are suddenly alert, and she tries to sit up.

"Whoa. Lay back." I push her back against the bed easily—too easily. She's extremely weak.

"Don't touch me. You don't know what you're doing."

"I drew up 300mcg of Neupogen. Is that not the correct dose?"

"How did you know?" Her brow creases, but she's too weak to fight anymore and just gives in.

I swab her arm and give her the injection as gently as I can. She winces, and I hate that I'm causing her pain.

_When did you acquire a vagina, Masen?_

I'm not sure what's happening. I've had to track down pretty girls before, some I even drank from before turning them in, but I feel like Isabella is digging around inside me, reaching places none of the others have. Maybe it's because she's so frail and sick right now. After all, I'm not a complete monster.

She slips into a fitful slumber, and I sit beside her through the night, monitoring her temperature. After a few hours, it returns to normal.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she starts mumbling in her sleep the way she did last night. This time, I listen closely because she might say something revealing.

"No . . . can't go back . . . James, you bastard! How could you? Blood . . . oh, no, no. Let her go . . . please. _Please._"

Her heart starts to race.

"Baby, I'm so sorry . . . I didn't know. Don't go . . . no! _Hannah!_"

She sits up, shrieking and tearing at her hair. I sit on the edge of the bed, capturing her hands so she can't do any damage to herself.

"Hey . . . it was a dream. You're right here in the cabin. It's okay."

Sobbing, she fists my clothes, pulling me close to her. Neither of us speak; she just cries into my shirt, and I let her. Eventually, she falls asleep slumped against me, and I ease her back down to the bed, tucking the covers around her.

Dawn finds me sitting on the window-seat in her bedroom. Even though she admitted to attempted murder, this girl is sick, and I'm not about to drag her clear across the country yet. There are still five weeks until her trial; surely it won't hurt to allow her time to recover, right?

Isabella begins to stir. I watch her from my post by the window, and when her eyes find me there, she gasps. "What are you doing in my bedroom?"

"Watching over you."

"Do I look like I'm strong enough to escape you?" Her tone is scathing.

"That's not what I meant," I say, perching on the side of the bed. When I reach out to check her forehead, she shrinks back, so I drop my hand. "I've been taking care of you through the night. You had a fever."

"You gave me a shot."

"I did."

"How did you know what dose to give me or how to administer the shot?"

"My father is a doctor."

Isabella lets out a most unladylike snort. "Your _father_?"

"Yes."

"That's your story, and you're sticking to it, huh?"

"What can I do for you? Can I bring you something to eat?" I ask, ignoring her question.

"Ugh. No food."

I reach out to feel her forehead, and this time she doesn't rebuff me. "Seems normal now. Do you feel better?"

"A little. Thank you . . . for taking care of me."

"You're welcome. Who's Hannah?"

Wrong thing to ask.

"What? How do you know about her?" Isabella's voice rises to a near-shriek.

"You were calling her name in your sleep."

"That subject is off-limits, you hear?"

"Got it."

Isabella pulls her knees in, resting her chin on them, and wraps her arms around her shins. She rocks slightly, giving the appearance of a frightened child more than the twenty-six year old woman that she is.

"I've made a decision," I announce, and her eyes meet mine timidly. "Your trial isn't for another five weeks. My job is to deliver you by your trial date, not by tomorrow. You should use your time wisely to recover."

"What? How long are you going to give me?"

"As long as you need—within reason, of course."

Suddenly, she sits up straighter, her expression suspicious. "What do you expect in return?"

"Nothing. Just don't try to run from me. If you do, things will get ugly fast, and I'll bring you in immediately. No second chances."

"Thank you, Mr. Masen."

"Please call me Edward."

"Thank you . . . Edward."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Some answers but more questions, I'm sure. Ask whatever you'd like, but I won't answer anything that gives away future plot. I've already received a barrage of questions from many of you. (So impatient!) Before anyone asks: yes, I've done my research, and I work in the field. Neupogen is typically given to patients on chemotherapy to stimulate the white blood count but is used at times for patients with certain types of Leukemia who are_ not_ on chemo. I have no intention of delving deep into medical issues in this fic, so this should suffice.  
><strong>

** Thank you all for reading! See you next Tuesday!**

**For IWIPB readers... I'm working on an update, but it's going slow. After that, I'm slated to work on Broken Windows. The holidays really mucked me up, and I'm working against a deadline for my novel. Love you all for sticking by me! Mwah! _Best readers ever._**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at) SaritaDreaming or (at) SarahAisling**

**On Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**


	4. Chapter 4 Into Darkness Fall

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and rec'd this story. You guys totally rock!**

**This chapter is on the short side, but I think you'll understand it was necessary to the flow of the story after you read it. The next chapter is a bit longer, and the rest should fall in the 3-4K range for the most part.**

**Thanks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their valuable feedback and cheerleading skills.**

**Thank God for my lovely betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding those Sparkly Reds. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**~Into Darkness Fall~**

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><p><em><strong>You let me feel the place I might regret<strong>_

_** Hearin' you call my name**_

_** Tomorrow lies in pain**_

_** Far away**_

**~l~**_**  
><strong>_

**Excerpt: Loaded by SEAL**

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, I miss the fact that Isabella never once asks me why I don't eat or sleep.<p>

As for Isabella, she slowly gains strength. She begins eating again, watching more Seinfeld (she has the entire collection on DVD), reading, and writing in a journal she keeps tucked under her pillow. She's politely distant from me, and I try to stay out of her way as much as possible, spending most of my time outside—another oddity she fails to mention.

It's on the third day it happens. I'm wandering the yard while Isabella prepares her lunch. A sudden sharp cry rings out, followed by the clatter of metal and a solid thump. In three seconds, I'm standing over Isabella's prone body, which is on the kitchen floor. A knife lies beside her, her palm slit open deeply and freely bleeding.

Grasping her wrist, I bring my mouth down to lick at her wound. I can taste the sickness in her blood and the medication flowing through her system. I quickly seal the split in her skin with my venom.

Just as I'm about to pick her up, I lose all use of my body.

My arms and legs go numb, and I topple over beside her on the floor. My skin ignites into flames that rival what I recall of my change: they lick along underneath the dermis as if millions of fire ants are crawling inside me. Napalm trapped under my skin.

I'm paralyzed, and I scream out uncontrollably.

Everything goes dark.

_Paralysis._

_Blurry vision._

_Muddled thoughts._

_Pain; so much pain and burning._

Slowly, I become aware of my body. Fire ants still crawl inside me, but the pain is down to a dull roar no worse than the burn in my throat when I thirst. My bodily functions are another story; I'm still paralyzed.

My eyelids flutter open, and I see Isabella's face floating above me. Her expression isn't clear, but I'm pretty sure there's some guilt in her eyes. Why?

My lips won't work, and another group of fire ants starts eating my insides.

"AHHHHHH!" I cry out, my back arching off the floor involuntarily.

Isabella shrinks back with her hand over her mouth. "Edward, I'm sorry you're in pain." Her warm fingers brush over my arm. "I won't be taken back there, though. I can't."

Slowly, my senses return: my vision clears, the pain reduces to a dull throb, my limbs have feeling again. As my mind begins to work, I wonder what the hell happened. I've never heard of a vampire being incapacitated before. We aren't subject to the afflictions that humans experience. The last thing I recall before I collapsed was closing up Isabella's wound.

"Your hand..." I rasp.

"It's fine. Thank you for healing me."

_What? How did she know...?_

"Healing you?"

"Are you able to move now, Edward?"

"Somewhat. Sensation is returning."

"I'm sorry about this."

"Not your fault..."

"I'm afraid it is," she whispers, and suddenly I smell blood just before it trickles into my mouth.

It's Isabella's blood; I remember the strange taste of it. I try to turn my head away, but I don't have the strength.

And then the napalm-like pain fills me again, and I scream.

"No, please! What are you doing?"

"Feeding you my blood, _vampire_."

"Why?" The one word encompasses so many things I want to know.

_She knows what I am._

"You can't take me in if you can't get up, right?" She sits back against the cabinets with her arms around her knees.

Another round of pain rocks my body, and I cry out again.

"I _am_ sorry about the pain, Edward. I really have no desire to hurt you, and I hope you survive this."

"Survive?" I manage to whisper, rolling my eyes her way.

"My blood is toxic to vampires. James wants me brought back so he can do more experiments on me, but I won't allow that." She looks off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. "I just don't know what to do with you. You could have killed me or dragged me back right away, but you didn't. You even healed my hand. If you were any other vampire, I would have given you a lethal dose."

"Lethal?" I sound like a fucking parrot, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around what's happening.

"If you drink enough of my blood, you'll die. Many _have_ died." Her voice holds no smugness, just a deep, abiding sadness.

"Is there... a cure?"

"No. At least not that I'm aware of. James hid a lot from me, which is why I'm in this predicament."

"He knows?"

Now there are two of her, and a dry burning coats my tongue. It seems my venom is drying up; perhaps that's what will end me.

"Oh, he knows all right. He destroyed my life all because he wants immortality. I'm not bitter that I'm dying, but he's destroyed so many in his quest. And my baby... he took my baby," she wails, rocking back and forth as tears stream down her face.

"Baby?" I parrot her again. I'm holding on to the last shred of consciousness that I can, but everything is slipping.

"My baby. My Hannah."

They're the last words I hear before the darkness comes for me again.

**~*RK*~**

"Edward... Edward..."

My name echoes around in my head, chasing its own tail like a dog with a mission. So dry, so hot, so numb. My lips and eyelids seem to be glued together. Every single cell in my being aches.

This is reminiscent of my last days as a human, when I lay dying of the Spanish Influenza—before Carlisle changed me.

Carlisle. My sire. He really_ is _a physician, although now I get why Isabella snorted when I said my father is a doctor. _She knows what I am._ That's why she begged me not to break her; she knew what my strength could do to her fragile little body. Her sick, dying body.

Carlisle would be so curious about Isabella's blood and what it can do. Part of me wonders if Alice has seen my fate, if even now they might be on their way here. I know they would help me even though I flipped them the bird twenty years ago, even though I drink from the people that Carlisle fights every day to save.

"E-Edward?" Isabella's frightened voice filters through my thoughts.

Warmth on my face.

Her petite little hand caresses my skin, and it feels so good. A finger traces around my eyebrows, down over my nose, and across my lips.

Something warm drips onto my neck, rolling beneath the collar of my t-shirt.

"Edward, I'm sorry. Please."

She's crying. It's her tears that gather and soak the cotton of my shirt.

Is she sick? Has she taken a turn for the worse?

It takes a monumental effort, but I open my eyes. It's dark outside; a dim lamp in the living room casts the only light.

Her face looms into my vision, and her skin is red and puffy, her nose running. I can't speak yet, so I wait for her eyes to meet mine.

"Oh! Edward? Can you hear me?"

I blink my eyes because it's all I can manage at the moment.

"I think I gave you too much blood. Please don't die." Her fevered eyes search mine, and despite what she's done to me, I have the urge to comfort her.

It amazes me that what I was once able to do without thinking now takes an immense amount of effort. My lips quiver, and my dry-as-a-bone throat burns for reasons other than thirst for blood. The venom that heals me, keeps me alive, and provides my strength is being consumed by Isabella's blood. Soon, I'll be a desiccated shell, a mummified husk.

"Isabella..." I whisper.

She has to put her ear up to my lips to hear me, and even now, the scent of her beguiles me while I lay dying.

"I won't last much longer... everything is drying up inside me. There are others who can help you. They're vampires... but they live on animal blood. Alice. She's psychic... she can find... Hannah. Protect you." I take a breath—though vampires don't need to breathe, I find I can no longer continue without it. "My phone... in my jacket... her number's there. Tell her... I'm sorry."

And I'm done. I doubt any other words will pass my lips... ever.

I welcome the darkness.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>Thoughts? Theories? Want to yell at me and throw things? *ducks flying objects* <strong>

**Due to where the story left off, I won't be posting any public teasers on the usual sites this week. There may be a one or two liner on my blog, and I'll send a short one out to reviewers. *ducks more flying objects***

****Thank you all for reading! See you next Tuesday!****

**I'm still working on IWIPB and hoping to get started on Broken Windows soon. I'm so sorry about the delays, and I appreciate your patience so very much.**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at) SaritaDreaming or (at) SarahAisling**

**On Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**

**If you aren't reading _Prey for the Wicked_ yet... what are you waiting for? Aleeab4u is brilliant, and I'm lucky enough to be her beta. Psst... go read. Preyward is freakin' hot.**


	5. Chapter 5 Saving Grace

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and rec'd this story. You guys totally rock!**

**RK is the 'New Fic of the Week' over at IndieFicPimp. A huge thank you for the pimping!  
><strong>

**Edward licks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their valuable feedback and cheerleading skills.**

**Thank God for my lovely betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding those Sparkly Reds. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

**~Saving Grace~**

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><p><strong><em>Living in a dream then I wake up<em>**  
><strong><em> Wondering where I'm going to<em>**  
><strong><em> But it's true<em>**  
><strong><em> When I do<em>**  
><strong><em> I see you<em>**  
><strong><em> Loaded like a gun<em>**

**~l~_  
><em>**

**_Excerpt: Loaded ~ SEAL_**

* * *

><p>The taste of delicious blood blooms on my tongue, sliding down my throat to soothe the burning dryness there. Slowly, it feels as though my body is reconnecting, coming back online.<p>

Is this purgatory then? Am I about to be brought before judge and jury? Or do we dream of what we desperately hope once we float off into the hereafter?

More of the sweet, sweet taste trickles down my throat. The blood is too pure to belong to an adult. I never drank from a child, but I hear their blood is the ultimate honeyed nectar. Some members of the Volturi consider the blood of a child a rare delicacy—although even most of _them _think it profane to kill the young and innocent.

"Edward, can you hear me?" The breathy voice of an angel breaks in. "Please, God, let this work. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Warm hands caress me, touching me all over: my hair, face, arms, torso, legs. Soft lips kiss my cheek, my temple, and finally, my mouth.

"Please, Edward. I gave you all that I have . . . don't die."

My eyes open, and I see Isabella curled against my side with her head resting on my chest. Next to her are two empty bags of blood. _ Where did she get blood?_

The sweetness courses through me: fixing, repairing, rebuilding. Layer by layer.

Isabella sobs on my chest, and the sound reaches inside me and twists. My arm lifts feebly, shaking like an elderly person with Parkinson's, but I manage to touch her silken hair, to stroke it.

Gasping, she raises her head, soft brown eyes full of tears and misery meeting mine.

"How?" I whisper.

"I gave you Hannah's blood. I only had two bags of it. When I ran from James, I brought it with me. I've always suspected Hannah's blood might be the cure, but I knew I couldn't let James figure that out, or he would have . . ." She slaps a hand over her mouth and whimpers. "I let him send her away to save her, so she would have a chance to live."

"Why . . . give it . . . to me?"

"You're not a bad guy. If you were, you never would have allowed me time to gain my strength before taking me in. You could have hurt me or forced me to leave, but you didn't. Besides, I just feel this . . . _pull_ to you that I can't explain." Isabella looks away shyly, a deep blush rising to her cheeks

"Thank . . . you."

"Don't let my baby girl's blood go to waste. You have to get better," she whispers.

"How long . . . have . . . I been . . . like this?"

"Six days," she answers, trembling.

_Six days?_ Vampires don't sleep and are impervious to sickness . . . the fact that I lost six days is astounding.

The smell of her fear assaults me, and I suspect she's afraid I'll retaliate in some way. Raising my arm again, I skim my fingers over her still-damp cheek. "I won't . . . hurt you. Promise."

Isabella brings her hand up to trap mine against her face, and she tilts her head, leaning into it. Her eyes flutter closed, a half-smile on her lips.

_She's beautiful._ Sick, weak, and dying, but she has a light about her, a vibrancy that can't be denied.

"Rest, Edward. I gave you the last of Hannah's blood a while ago. You're going to need all your strength to fight this."

Taking my hand in hers, she fits her body alongside mine, resting her head on my shoulder. I realize that I'm still on the kitchen floor, that she's ill herself and should be in a warm, comfortable bed.

"Go to . . . bed. Cold and un . . .comfortable . . . here." I'm amazed at the effort it takes me just to speak. My movements have been reduced to that of a geriatric patient, and I still can't move most of my body.

"No. I'm not leaving you. Don't bother trying to argue with me, either; I'm as stubborn as they come, and you need to conserve your energy."

"How's your health?" I ask, concerned.

"I'm not that bad. Really."

"How long?"

My question can encompass all manner of things, but she knows what I'm asking.

"A year . . . maybe two if I'm lucky."

A surge of regret flows through me. Really, she should mean nothing to me—she's a job, an assignment—but the thought of her perishing leaves me feeling despondent. And, on some level, I feel I will recover faster with her next to me, although there's absolutely_ nothing_ scientific about it.

For the next forty-eight hours, Isabella rarely leaves my side. She eats, showers, injects her Neupogen, and returns to me. She fashions a makeshift bed out of a comforter by folding it over a few times and sleeps snuggled against me. I know it's not good for her health to be down on the cold floor against my chilled body, but I can't deny how much I'm beginning to crave her presence _or_ how much that scares me.

The lines have definitely blurred; it seems this is no longer a cut-and-dried assignment. If what she told me is true, James wants her for her blood, to run experiments as if she's a lab rat. I seriously doubt the attempted murder had anything to do with an illicit affair with his press secretary. In that case, there's no way Isabella is going back there—not if I have anything to say about it. If I survive, and there seems to be a good chance of that now, then I will do whatever I can to help her. Yes, even going so far as to contact my estranged family.

Isabella is sound asleep when my bodily functions finally return. Though they're still severely diminished by vampire standards, they're far superior to a human's. Sliding away from her carefully, I stand up, testing my strength. Glancing around, I note it's dark out, that there are some dishes piled in the sink, and her journal is now laying beside her. She's curled into a ball under the blanket, soft little snores escaping every so often.

When I'm sure of my strength, I lift her slight body into my arms. She's so soft and warm and feels so good cradled against my chest. Through my recovery, I've grown used to her warmth, and I avoid thinking about what that means. I walk carefully up the stairs to her bedroom and place her on the bed, pulling the covers up around her snugly.

"Edward . . ." she sighs in her sleep.

It's inappropriate, but I settle myself on the bed next to her, reasoning that I still need to rest. I also want to watch over her because I suspect she hasn't taken good care of herself over the past several days.

During the night, she has another nightmare, crying out for her child. I can't imagine how she feels, being separated from her little girl and living under the constant fear that her evil husband will figure out her secret.

"Hannah . . ." she whimpers, thrashing under the covers.

"Shh . . . Isabella. You're dreaming." I wrap my arms around her and run my fingers through her silken locks. She nuzzles her nose into my neck with a sigh, her arm snaking across my chest and her hand fisting my shirt.

I'm caught unawares by the feelings that bubble up inside me as this little waif of a woman leans into me with such trust. I want to protect her, to rip Senator Hunter limb from limb for taking her child away, for abusing her and causing her to go on the lam sick as she is. I'm not sure when I made the decision—when she cried for me, when she informed me that she sacrificed the last of her daughter's blood to try to save me, or when she called out my name in her sleep—but I'm not taking her back. If she tried to kill James Hunter, it was obviously well-justified. A low growl builds in my throat, and I think I might like to meet this James in a dark alley. I won't drink from him—that would be too good for the scoundrel—I might snap his fucking neck, though.

Isabella begins to stir, and I hope my growl didn't disturb her. Sighing and moving slowly, she surfaces. Lifting her head, she blinks sleepily, gasping when she notices me watching her intently. Looking around her, she realizes we're in her bed instead of on the kitchen floor and sits up quickly, putting a hand to her head.

"Whoa. Dizzy." Her eyes close for a moment before she opens them again. "Edward? How did we get up here?"

"I carried you."

"You carried me . . ." A smile spreads across her face, the first genuine one I've seen, and she lights up from within. So beautiful. "That means you're getting better!"

Isabella throws herself on top of me, hugging my body, and my arms close around her involuntarily. She feels so good here. _ So right._

And it suddenly slams home that I have feelings for her.

Is this what Alice saw? Is that why she insisted I take this job? If she thought Isabella was innocent, she could have found a way to save her without involving me. No, knowing Alice the way I do, she sent me for a much more important reason.

I'm distracted from my thoughts when Isabella squeals with delight and kisses my cheek. That brings to mind the soft kisses she placed over my face and lips when I was out of it and the way she worried for me and slept beside me on the floor.

Without thinking, I cup her face as she pulls back, lifting my head off the pillow. I move in slowly, in case she wants to stop me, until my lips brush hers. She grasps my wrists in her warm hands, but instead of pulling away, she draws closer, pressing me back as she straddles my body.

Our lips move together softly, and she opens her mouth, inviting my tongue inside. Her mouth is warmth and velvet, the taste sweet. We kiss for several long minutes without speaking. Without thinking.

Her hands slide down off my wrists, and she buries her fingers in my hair.

My hands smooth her silken tresses and wrap around her back, holding her to me.

Her plump lips kiss along my jaw, down my neck, and back up over my face. She kisses every inch, taking her time, her fingers massaging my scalp as she goes.

My cock grows hard beneath her, and I try to quell my urges. Isabella is not like the others. I can't imagine bedding her and tossing her away. She's too precious for that.

_Oh, fuck. She's my mate, isn't she?_

The irony of finding my mate this way is not lost on me. I've been a blood-drinking sexual Casanova, pleasuring various ladies as I take what I need.

Isabella is also human . . . and dying.

Pushing those thoughts away, I roll us over so I'm hovering above her. She gazes up at me with heavy-lidded eyes, a satisfied smile spreading across her face.

"Isabella . . . I don't know what's happening . . ."

"I don't either, Edward. Does it matter? Please just tell me you feel _this_ deep inside you the way I do." Her eyes widen with the realization that she might be alone in her feelings.

"I feel it," I reassure her, caressing her cheek. "I don't know exactly what's happening, but I can't deny that it's there. I don't want you to worry about anything. I'll never let your husband near you again. Whatever happens, I'll protect you."

Her expressive brown eyes meet mine, and they speak the words that she doesn't. They say she trusts me completely; they speak of feelings that match the ones that now burn inside me.

"That's not what this is about. It has nothing to do with me convincing you not to bring me back for trial. I never expected to feel this way . . . about anyone. I'm so confused, Edward."

"Shh . . . I know that. You're not that kind of person. You could have just let me die here and gone on your way, but you took a risk trusting me." I kiss her softly, ghosting my lips along her jaw. "I won't let you down," I whisper against her ear. It takes a great deal of control not to grind my hips into her, let her feel how hard I am.

Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, sliding over her temples to wet her hair. Concerned I've hurt her fragile body, I roll away and sit up quickly. "Have I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't hurt me. I'm just overwhelmed by this and kind of sad that I found you now."

I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, my fingers tracing the delicate shell lightly. "Why sad?"

"I'm dying, Edward. My life is nearly over—so much time wasted because of James and his greed. I'll never see Hannah again."

I open my arms, and she crawls into my lap, resting her head against my shoulder. "How old is Hannah?"

"Three."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. James has her hidden away somewhere. He said if I helped him become immortal, he would reunite me with her and let us go."

Obvious lies. If James became immortal, he'd spend his first year consumed by blood-lust; he probably wouldn't even _remember_ that he's hidden his own child away from her mother. Anger surges through me, and I snarl. "James is a liar, but I promise you, we're going to find Hannah."

"But how?"

"I have a secret weapon: a psychic sister. I need to call Alice. She'll know what to do."

"You would do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you, Isabella."

She lifts her head, a question in her eyes even as her heart speeds. "Why?"

Slipping my hand beneath her hair, I kiss her deeply before I answer. "Because you're my mate."

When the words are out, I know them to be true, and something inside me changes forever.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>God, but you guys have lots of questions! I've tried to answer the ones I can. This story does unfold a little at a time. Next chapter you'll get a much better picture of Isabella's past, and farther into the story will be pieces of Edward's past with his estranged family. (There will be Cullens and Quileutes galore!)<br>**

**Thank you all for reading! See you next Tuesday!**

**_I Want It Painted Black _should be out Wednesday, and I'm working on _Broken Windows_. I'm so sorry about the delays, and I appreciate your patience so very much.**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at) SaritaDreaming or (at) SarahAisling**

**On Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**


	6. Chapter 6 The Ties that Bind

**A/N: Sorry for the posting delay... Sarita and technology are not friends this week. :-/ Thank you all so much for your support. I love you all—lurkers included. The lovely Maxandmo wrote a review for RK, and it was the New Fic of the Week on IndieFicPimp this past week. Many thanks for the pimping! Mwah!**

**Thanks to my awesome prereaders, Key, Sandy, and Aleea, for all the valuable feedback and encouragement. It means more to me than I can say.**

**Edward licks to my awesomesauce betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for keeping my stuff readable.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**~The Ties that Bind~**

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><p><strong><em>Put it on me<em>**  
><strong><em> But maybe not this much<em>**  
><strong><em> It happened with just one touch<em>**  
><strong><em> The devil in you I trust<em>**

**_Excerpt: Loaded SEAL_**

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><p>"M-mate?" she whispers.<p>

"Yes."

"I thought vampires mated with other vampires." Her brow creases, a little V forming, and I smooth it away with my finger, a wry smile tugging at my lips.

"Yes, usually. But then again, I've never been a conformist." Irony laces my tone, and I shake my head.

Isabella's head returns to rest against my shoulder.

Now that I've said the words aloud, the truth of them blooms inside me like a rare and precious flower. This explains my protectiveness over Isabella, the growing pull to take care of her, the inexplicable feelings. I never really understood what it meant to be mated—actually scoffing at the thought we could love another almost on sight—but it makes perfect sense to me in this moment. I would do anything for her, laying down my life if necessary, and the thought of her no longer existing sends a jolt of pain shooting through the space where my heart used to beat.

Even though I try to stem the sensation, a soft grunt of pain slips past my lips anyway.

"Edward? What is it?" Isabella's head rises, her beautiful brown eyes frightened.

"Nothing," I whisper.

Her hand comes to rest over the site of the pain, and she looks down at her fingers for a moment before her gaze returns to mine, her eyes widening.

"Not nothing. You hurt here." She presses her hand harder against my chest, and the pain dampens under the warmth. "Why?"

I cover her hand with my own, trapping it against my dead heart, and I suddenly wish I was human even if only for a moment. My eyes, dry for over a century, ache to shed tears. I want to look away from her, to lie to her so she doesn't have to share in my pain, but I can't. There are invisible cords binding us together, more every moment that she breathes, that we touch, that I gaze into her eyes.

"There's an ache in my chest."

"But vampires can't feel pain. Do you think it's a side effect from my blood?" There's a panicked edge to her voice.

"Shh... no," I assure her, rubbing soothing patterns on her back.

"But—"

"It's the mating connection. The thought of you dying..." I swallow around the lump in my throat. "Mated ones can apparently feel pain. It aches where my heart used to beat... where you now live inside me."

"Don't say that," she whispers, looking away.

"Why not? It's true. It's okay if you don't feel the same about me. I've never heard of a vampire mating with a human; perhaps it won't affect you the same way."

"It _does_, Edward. I've never felt like this before—I wasn't even aware the human body could hold so much emotion. And it feels raw, like a scab ripped away from a tender wound." She hesitates, then laughs humorlessly. "Maybe I understand how your chest feels after all."

My arms tighten, cradling her, and I plant a kiss on the top of her head. "Perhaps you do, sweet one. It wouldn't be wise for either of us to underestimate the other."

"What now, Edward?"

"I'm taking you to my family. They'll be able to help us. I haven't been home in a very long time, but they'll welcome us with open arms, and I suspect they already know we're coming."

"How long has it been, Edward?"

"Twenty years."

"They'll know we're coming because Alice is... psychic?"

"That's right. And Alice will be the key to finding Hannah."

Isabella draws in a sharp breath, her body stiffening against me, and a whimper escapes.

"I promise I'll do everything in my power to reunite you with Hannah, and so will my family."

"B-but they don't even know me."

"You're my mate. That makes you family."

The rest of that day and the next, we make travel preparations—or rather I make preparations while Isabella packs her things and rests. She's so pale, and I'm concerned over her health. As I'm sitting in the alcove beneath the stairs doing research on the computer, I receive a text from Alice:

**I saw you wouldn't answer, so I decided to text you instead. As you've probably surmised, we're expecting you and your mate. Everyone is anxious to see you both.**

I snort, knowing she's full of shit, before I continue reading.

**Okay... well, most of us can't wait to see you. Carlisle says we'll help however we can. I love you, Edward. I've missed you ~Ali**

So, my family is already well prepared for the prodigal son and brother's return. I sure hope they don't expect me to drink that weak, fetid, watered-down slop they do. While my days of seduction are over now that I'm mated, I most certainly will not drink from the animal kingdom.

"Edward?" Isabella's voice is shaky, and I look up to see her leaning against the wall of the alcove watching me.

Pushing the computer chair back, I open my arms, inviting her over. She doesn't hesitate to crawl onto my lap, resting her head against me with a soft sigh. Soft lips kiss my neck, leaving a trail of heat on my skin. She's so small, so fragile.

"What is it? Are you all right?" I ask, holding her to me.

"I'm worried about you. Your jaw was so tight, your posture so stiff. Did something upset you?"

"Oh, that. My sister Alice texted me. They are indeed expecting us, and she wanted to let me know we'll be welcomed with open arms." There's something acerbic in my tone, and Isabella glances up at me.

"You're not happy to be going home."

"That's _not_ my home. I live in a high-rise in Port Angeles. They live in the backwoods of the Olympic Peninsula, attempting to live peaceably amongst _dogs_." My words are scathing, and she blanches. Soothing her with my touch, I kiss her temple. "Don't allow my moodiness to upset you. Please. It would greatly disturb me to pile any more on your plate."

"But... it's my fault. You wouldn't be going to them on your own. We don't have to go, Edward. Maybe there's some other way."

"No, there's not. My family is gifted and has many resources we need. I'll deal with them."

"If you're sure."

"I am. I would walk through fire for you. I'll do anything to bring you and Hannah back together, and as for that husband of yours..." A growl rumbles in my chest.

We cuddle for a while, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

Early the next morning, Isabella watches with amusement as I move at vampire speed, cleaning the thick blanket of frozen-over snow from the SUV in the backyard. It takes me no time at all to shovel the path out to the road, which is still fairly treacherous—at least it would be for humans.

We pack the back of the car with all of Isabella's belongings, and I do a sweep of the entire house to be sure there are no clues left behind. There's no reason for Angela Weber or her uncle to get in trouble for helping Bella. I mangle the wires I cut when I arrived to make it appear as if the damage was done by an animal rather than a stealthy bounty hunter.

Making sure the car is well-heated for her comfort, I place her Neupogen, which is in a small cooler packed with ice, in the trunk where it will remain cold longer.

The trip from Pennsylvania to Forks is a long one. It doesn't matter one way or the other to me, but Isabella's health would suffer if we tried to drive cross-country. I finally break down and call Carlisle to ask for his help. Despite my petulant behavior over the past two decades, he's gracious and offers me the use of the Cullen jet. In order to alleviate any suspicion, we drive for two days straight, the plane meeting us at a secondary airstrip in Georgia.

Isabella spends much of her time sleeping. She usually prefers to be curled in a ball by my side, but at times, she transfers to the back seat where she can stretch her limbs. I drive straight through, stopping only for gas and food. I'm careful to keep my speed within legal limits. Although I can usually avoid speed traps, I'm not willing to risk being caught with a fugitive in the car. While I could simply say I'm bringing her in, there's no way I'll let anyone put their hands on my mate.

Much of the ride is spent in a comfortable silence, holding hands, but there's also time for talk when Isabella is awake and alert.

Something's been niggling at the back of my mind for a while.

"Isabella, you said James was after immortality. How could running experiments on you possibly aid him?"

Isabella laughed bitterly. "James has the same affliction I do. You don't want to know how many vampires have died trying to change him. He lures them in with the promise of riches."

"He has the same blood anomaly? How in the world did the two of you end up together?"

"James must have been searching for a solution. I don't know for sure, but I believe he came across my blood because of my leukemia. I've received blood transfusions. Perhaps he had a contact in a lab. The one thing I do know is he discovered an extra chromosome is responsible, and I have the same one."

"So he ran experiments on you to what? Try to find a cure?"

"Yeah." She looks out her window, and her face is tight, her knuckles white as she grips my hand.

"How did he get you to agree?"

"Agree?" She snorts derisively. "James wooed me. I was working in a bookstore part time during college, and he showed up frequently, asking questions and ordering rare books he wasn't even interested in. Eventually, flowers were delivered every few days, and he finally arrived to ask me on a date.

"My boss told me to either say yes to the guy or find a new job, so I let James take me out. He took me to the opera, the movies, out to dinner... for long walks in the park. He was the perfect gentleman, never doing more than kissing me until we had dated for six months. It was a whirlwind romance, and fool that I was, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker." She stops talking, chewing at her bottom lip.

"And then?" I prompt her when she hasn't spoken for a good five minutes.

"One night he took me out for a fancy dinner and bent down on one knee, pulling a velvet box out of his suit pocket that held the perfect ring. Even though he could afford the world, it was elegant and understated because he knew I hated flash. He asked me to do him the honor of becoming his wife. At the time my leukemia was manageable, but I still offered him an out. He said it didn't matter, and I believed him.

"It was a private ceremony on his estate. Our honeymoon was in Hawaii. He was a tender lover, and he couldn't seem to get enough of me—until I gave birth to Hannah. That's when my nightmare began. At first he said he wanted to have genetic testing done to see if Hannah would have leukemia as well. It was soon apparent that something was really wrong. He stopped touching me, and he had no interest in Hannah." Tears wet her face, and I squeeze her hand.

"I'm sorry, Isabella. Do you want to stop for now? You don't have to go through this all at once." An ugly picture was beginning to form in my mind, and I had a feeling I knew where this was headed. James Hunter was a despicable excuse for a human being.

"No, I'd rather get it out. James showed me the state of the art laboratory he had in the basement of the estate when Hannah was almost one. He explained about the blood anomaly and said he was looking for a cure. At first he didn't tell me what our blood did, but I became suspicious and snooped around. One night I watched a vampire d-die on the floor down there. It was awful—the screams, the writhing, and then the dried out, desiccated body. I tried to slip away, but I started vomiting uncontrollably, and James caught me. He had blood all over his neck, and I realized he'd been bitten.

"After that, he dropped all pretenses. He forced me to sit down and listen to the sordid story of how he sought me out to marry on purpose, paid for my education, and impregnated me in the hopes of having genetic testing done on our child... and he expected me to help him now that I'd snooped in his business. Gone was the kind, gentle man I knew, and in his place was a crafty, evil asshole. I wanted to refuse, but he made a remark about Hannah being useless to him because she didn't have the extra chromosome."

"So he doesn't know Hannah's blood is a cure?"

"No. When I fled from there, I took both bags of her blood with me."

It's been hours since Isabella ate, so I suggest a break for food. She can't afford to be seen anywhere, so I order her food from a diner. She suggested a drive-thru, but I'm determined to do what I can to bolster her health.

Parking in front of the diner, I tell her to remain in the back seat and keep her head down. At this late hour, the restaurant is quiet, and the woman behind the counter looks me over with interest.

_I'd like to ride him. What a hottie._

A few weeks ago, I would have obliged her, but now it's just an annoyance. I order the food and sit on a stool at the counter with my phone out, pretending to be engrossed in texting, when I'm really ruminating on Isabella.

I haven't even broached the subject of turning her, but I'm beginning to realize it might not be possible. The thought sends a fresh shock of pain through my chest, and the need to be with Isabella is almost impossible to ignore. I nearly run out the door without the food, but I know she needs the sustenance, and my mate takes precedence over all needs, including my own.

"Here you go." The waitress places two bags on the counter, and I leave her a nice tip on my way out. "Have a great night!" _Big tipper. I hope he comes back often._

It's a fight to return to the car at a human speed. By the time I reach the SUV, I'm gasping under the need to touch her. Opening the door, I slide in, my hand reaching between the front seats to grasp hers.

Pulling back onto the highway, I stop at the nearest scenic overlook. Without speaking, I get out and open the back door, sliding onto the seat beside her.

"Edward?" she questions, realizing something isn't right.

"I just need to touch you," I rasp.

Setting aside the sandwich, she allows me to place her on my lap, and I sigh with relief once my arms are around her. I place gentle kisses up the side of her neck, and I taste her delicate skin with the tip of my tongue.

Isabella shifts around until she's straddling me, and her warm hands hold my face tenderly. "You're so beautiful, Edward." Her soulful brown eyes take me in as her fingers slowly explore my features.

"I was just thinking the same thing about you." I smile crookedly, knowing I'm putty in her hands and not caring. Even my inner monologue fails to berate me for it.

Leaning in close, Isabella brushes her lips across mine. Soft, sweet little kisses that lead to parted lips, tangled tongues, groans, and grinding. She rotates her hips over the obvious bulge in my pants, allowing her head to fall back, and I lick my way up the exposed expanse of creamy skin, nibbling along her jaw.

My hands slip under her top, caressing hot skin, and I find her bra-less. Tentatively, I ghost my fingers over her nipples, and they pucker and harden under my cool touch. We kiss for a long time, my tongue exploring her velvet-hot mouth. I'm distracted by her, so it catches me by surprise when her hands reach for my belt.

"Isabella, no." My hands release her breasts to grasp her wrists.

"No? I thought..."

"Not here. Not like this. I want to give you more than the back seat of a car for our first time." I ghost my lips across her cheek and kiss her earlobe, whispering, "I want it to be perfect for you."

"It will be, Edward. I know it." Snaking her arms around my neck, she presses her chest against mine, and I hold her to me for a long time, neither of us speaking.

Eventually her legs become stiff, and I realize we need to get back on the road. Lifting her from the car, I carry her bridal-style to the passenger side and place her on the front seat. She takes my hand as I drive and tells more of her story.

"James ran tests on me, and he also fed my blood to vampires. H-He made me watch them die. He said I needed to understand what was at stake, that we needed to find a cure. He offered to turn me, too, but I refused. He just shrugged and told me to die with the rest of the cattle if that's what I really wanted. So cruel... he was just so cruel. He never came close to a cure, and his anger grew.

"One night I overheard him talking to his bodyguard, Laurent. They've been friends since grammar school, and he trusts Laurent with all his secrets. James was drunk, which always loosened his lips, but they didn't realize I was awake. James was talking about how he h-had my p-parents killed so he could get to me. I—it's my fault they died..." She drifts off, a keening wail filling the car.

"Fuck. I knew something was suspicious about their deaths," I mutter. "It's not your fault, Isabella. Some people are just evil." Taking her hand in mine, I rub my thumb over her knuckles.

Isabella grabs some tissues from the glove compartment, blowing her nose and wiping the tears away.

"I'm sorry. I've been living with the guilt of this for the past year, and I've never spoken the words out loud. I know intellectually their deaths aren't my fault, but in here..." she rubs her hand over her heart "...I feel responsible. If I didn't have leukemia, if my blood didn't have this anomaly, if I didn't fall for James' smarmy bullshit... if I'd been healthier, smarter, more discerning... my parents would still be alive. My dad would have broken James' neck for treating me this way."

"That may still happen, Isabella. James Hunter will _not_ get away with harming my mate. There's no way he's going to become immortal." I bare my teeth, and a snarl escapes before I can tamp it back, but Isabella doesn't appear scared of me; in fact, she smiles. "You're smiling?" My eyebrows shoot up.

"You're so protective, Edward. Finally, my knight in shining armor has come. I always thought it was James, and then... well, I thought they didn't exist." Her eyes hold a faraway look, and then she suddenly looks over at me. "So it's true then... vampires are immortal?"

"Yes."

"You'll live forever?"

"Yes." I don't tell her that may not be the case if she dies. Based on the level of pain I've been feeling when she's just a few short yards away... I don't think I'll survive her passing, nor will I want to.

"What will happen to you when I die?"

Naturally, she would bring that up. Another pain rocks my body when the image of Isabella being placed in the ground floats behind my eyes, and I grit my teeth, unable to speak for a moment.

"I—I don't know," I lie. There's no way I'm going to allow her to worry over it.

"You know." Her warm hand comes to rest over my chest, branding me right through my shirt.

"Isabella, please." It's all I say, all I can without sounding like a blubbering pansy, but she lets me off the hook and continues with her story.

"When I heard what James said about my parents, I couldn't control my emotions. I ran into the room and flew at him, beating him about his face and chest. Laurent lifted me off him and held me back. Laurent was very gentle; he seemed to have a soft spot for me, and his eyes were sympathetic. James, however, was pissed off. He slapped me across the face and banned me from any outside contact.

"The following week, Hannah was t-taken away. James said he knew I would cooperate if she was g-gone. He promised if I helped him become immortal, he would give her back. It was his way of ensuring I didn't run or tell anyone. He wouldn't let me talk to her on the phone, but he let me make recordings for her. S-Sometimes I would even get one back. He also had pictures taken to show me proof of life."

"So what finally made you go on the run?"

"I overheard James again. He's so fucking stupid when he's drunk; alcohol totally loosens his tongue. He was talking on the phone—I don't know to whom—and he said that I was a good little robot, that he was sure I would cooperate. He felt they were close to the cure, and then... then he would dispose of me _and_ Hannah. He never intended to reunite us at all!

"I flipped out and tried to kill him. If I was smart, I would have poisoned the son of a bitch, but I grabbed for the gun he always kept in his desk drawer. I wasn't really sure how to use it except for what I've seen on TV, but I cocked the hammer and pointed it at him. My hands were shaking so bad, and I didn't expect the recoil, so the shot went wild. He was on me in a second flat, and he had me arrested for attempted murder. He didn't count on me being bailed out of jail by my friend, Angela. I begged her to help me, only telling her part of the story because I didn't want to endanger her. The cabin I was staying in belongs to her uncle."

"Yes, I know."

"You know? How?"

"I did some digging of my own. It's what I do, Isabella. I also need to tell you I tracked down your friend, and I... read her mind. That's how I found you."

"You can read minds?" Her eyes widen.

"Yes. Not yours, though. I'm not sure why. I don't think anyone else would have an easy time finding the cabin; I had the advantage because I read Angela's mind. She's a good friend to you—told me to go straight to hell." I smirk at the memory of Angela acting like a lioness protecting her friend.

Isabella laughs. "She's the best, Edward. My only true friend... until you."

I bring her hand up to my lips and place little kisses on it. "You'll always have me now."

"Until death do us part, huh?" she says humorlessly.

"Isabella... would you consider being turned?" I ask carefully, watching the road with her hand still wrapped in mine.

"Now, yes. I don't want to leave you. It's impossible, though."

"Maybe not."

"What do you mean?"

"My father—my sire—Carlisle really is a doctor. In fact, I have a medical degree myself, although mine is antiquated, and I've never been a practicing physician. Carlisle is really smart, and he may be able to find a way."

A soft 'Oh,' is Isabella's only response, and she stares off into the distance for a few moments before curling against me and falling asleep. I understand why she doesn't want to speak of it too much—I don't, either—because she doesn't want us to get our hopes up.

When we reach the airport, Isabella is still sound asleep. I carry her onto the plane and then go back for our things. Once we take off, I cradle her on my lap and pray.

There's a car waiting for us when we land in Port Angeles. I carry her to the car, her eyes opening sleepily, long enough to place a kiss on my cheek before she falls back asleep.

The quiet drive affords me time to think, but I choose not to. I never expected to be coming back here, and certainly not like this.

When we're still thirty minutes away, Isabella wakes up. She stretches her arms over her head and yawns.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. I had the best dream."

"What was it?"

"Hannah was back with me, and I lived in a beautiful house with her... and you."

"That is a beautiful dream, Isabella. There's nothing I'd love more." _I wish I could give you that, but it's not likely. Even if we get her back, you're dying, and I'm a vampire._

"Edward, do you realize that your family lives right near Forks where I grew up?"

"Yes. Quite a coincidence. They live about fifteen minutes outside of town."

"My father's best friend and his family still live nearby. I wish I could visit them."

"Where do they live?"

"On the Quileute Reservation."

I stiffen involuntarily, my eyes meeting hers fiercely. "You will never step foot there again. Are we clear?"

"Wh-what?" Isabella leans away from me, taken aback by the vitriol in my voice.

"They are our enemies, Isabella. The Cullens have a treaty with the Quileutes—stay off of each other's land, and no humans in the area can be bitten or killed."

"What? They know what you are?"

"Yes. Do you know what _they_ are?"

"You mean... they aren't human?" Her mouth gapes open.

"No. Some of them carry the shape-shifting gene. They can phase into giant wolves, and their sole purpose is to kill vampires."

"And if the Cullens can't bite humans, how do they survive?"

"Animal blood," I say with disdain, my lip curling in disgust.

"But you drink human blood?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit. There are many things in this world I thought were only fantasy."

"The Quileutes can't know that you're here, Isabella; you understand that, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"If they find out I'm here, the treaty could be in danger of becoming null and void."

"I understand."

We're quiet for a few minutes, but something nags at me.

"Aren't you going to ask me why _I_ don't drink animal blood?"

"No."

I glance over at Isabella, and she's smirking. I don't have time to question her further because we've reached our destination. Swallowing hard, I turn onto the long, winding drive that leads to the place I once called home.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: So a bit of Isabella's past for you to digest... and there will be more twists and surprises coming as the mystery unfolds. Next chapter we get to meet some of the Cullens and get a peek at the family dynamic, so to speak. I'd love to hear what you think so far. Many of you have sent me some really awesome comments, and I appreciate each and every one more than I can say.**

**Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**


	7. Chapter 7 Coming Home

**Hey, everyone! Thanks again to everyone who's reading, reviewing, lurking, and reccing this story. There are too many of you to name individually, but you know who you are—and you rock!**

**Thanks to my awesome prereaders, Key, Sandy, and Aleea, for all the valuable feedback and encouragement. It means more to me than I can say.**

**Edward licks to my awesomesauce betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for keeping my stuff readable.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

**~Coming Home~**

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><p><em><strong>I know in my bones<strong>_

_**I've been here before  
>The ground feels the same<strong>_

_**though the land's been torn  
>I've a long way to go <strong>_

_**The stars tell me so  
>on this road that will take me home<strong>_

_**Excerpt: Going Home ~ Mary Fahl**_

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><p>When the winding drive straightens, letting us out in front of the wood and glass structure I used to call home, something clenches tight within. Myriad feelings fight for domination inside me: contempt, a vague longing, smoldering hatred, loneliness, awkwardness, nostalgia... all fueled and propelled by a deep, abiding anger.<p>

Isabella gasps beside me.

"What is it?" Estranged family forgotten, my eyes seek out hers.

"What happened here that you're filled with such a burning anger?"

"Why do you think that?" My eyes turn back to the crescent-shaped driveway.

"God, Edward, I can feel it pouring off you."

When I felt pain in my chest, Isabella knew. Now she could sense the conflicting feelings I have for my family? I've never heard of such a thing—not that I'm any authority on the mated.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why you keep feeling my pain. There are some very raw and ugly emotions inside me, sweet one. I don't want you to be negatively affected." I rub my knuckles over her prominent cheekbone, once again noting how thin and frail she is.

My attention is drawn to the front door, which swings open. Four figures emerge slowly, and my jaw clenches involuntarily.

"Wait here," I instruct, stepping out of the car.

My eyes light on the representatives here to deal with me. Carlisle, my sire. Esme, the mother figure I could never find it in myself to be angry with. Alice, the meddling psychic. And Jasper, the sneaky empath I'm sure to clash with—the control he tries to visit on others merely angers me further. When my eyes roam over him, his lip curls with disdain.

_Come back now that you need the useless vegetarians, huh?_

I bare my teeth at him, and Carlisle shoots him a look. "Jasper," he says in a quiet voice, and that's all that's needed to get Jasper to toe the line. What loyalty the great doctor inspires. I both love and hate Carlisle, the feelings at war within me. They swirl and dance against one another like yin and yang, black and white.

I'm startled by the sudden appearance of Esme beside me. She reaches out to cradle my face between her hands. "My boy," she whispers.

"Esme," I acknowledge.

I never could be cruel to her, and it appears I still can't.

"Welcome home."

"This isn't my home, Esme. It hasn't been for a long time."

"You're wrong, Edward. This always has been and always will be your home."

Jasper snorts, and I'm halfway to him before I can stop myself. Gnashing my teeth, I snarl.

"Boys, please." Esme appears at my side again, and she takes my hand. The withering look she shoots Jasper wipes the smirk from his face, but he says nothing.

Alice places her hand on Jasper's chest, looking up at him with her head tilted. "He needs to be here," she whispers. "For her."

Before I can respond, Carlisle is stepping forward, approaching me at a human pace. My eyes flit to him, and I'm filled with distrust. With the exception of Jasper, they're treating me like a dangerous mental patient. Alone, I can't do them any harm, so why is it so important not to run me off?

"Edward." Carlisle nods politely.

"Carlisle."

"It's good to see you, Son. I've missed you. We all have."

"Well, now you're lying." A sardonic smirk twists my lips.

Carlisle looks me straight in the eye—the way he always looks at every situation head on—and shakes his head. "Edward, no matter what's gone before or what conflicts there are among us, we're family."

"Are we? Even though I'm the black sheep? The bad little boy who refused to drink that watered down sludge the rest of you do?" I step closer to him and hiss. "Look at my eyes, Father. Nothing has changed."

In my mind, the memory of the day I left here twenty years ago stirs. I was told in no uncertain terms that I could not live under this roof while drinking human blood, that I would not be allowed to endanger the treaty with those vile dogs.

"Everything has changed. You're mated now, and she needs us."

I glare back at him, but I hold my tongue. I want to rant and rave, to deny that I need them, but Isabella must come first. All of this is for her.

The door of the car snicks open, and I growl low in my throat. My beautiful mate has a mind of her own. It shouldn't surprise me that she's unable to stay away; in reality, I'm surprised she lasted this long without interfering.

"Stay where you are, Isabella."

Alice, who has been uncharacteristically silent, suddenly animates. She skips close to me, but is smart enough not to get between me and my mate—_that_ would be a mistake.

"Hi, Bella!" She waves, a welcoming smile on her face.

A small gasp from Isabella draws my attention. Her face pales, and her eyes burn into Alice. "My name is Isabella."

Alice cocks her head. "Don't your friends call you Bella?"

Isabella's face is stony. "No. Nobody that gives a _damn_ about me calls me that any longer."

My sister's face falls, her lower lip pouting slightly. "I'm sorry, Be—Isabella." Then her eyes look up into my face reproachfully. "I've missed you. You've deprived me of my favorite brother for so long."

And without warning, she launches herself at me, and my arms instinctively catch her. Alice's legs wrap around my waist like a vice, and she hugs me tight enough to break human bones. I'm not sure how I feel about her actions, but I don't have time to ponder it because I feel a numbing calm settling over me. _Jasper._

A few things happen at once.

I set Alice down on her feet.

Carlisle, Esme, and Alice all look toward Isabella.

In a blur, I'm over to Jasper, slamming him up against the wall, snarling.

"I told you never to manipulate my emotions again, _empath_."

His eyes burn with anger, and I know the sight of my red irises up close bothers him more than any of the others. He shoves me hard, pushing me away.

"It's your _mate_ I was trying to calm, not you!" Jasper rushes me, pressing me against a tree which tilts but doesn't fall. "Selfish asshole," he mutters before returning to stand beside Carlisle.

I'm too far from Isabella. The four of them are between us, and my fingers itch to bury themselves in her hair. As the feeling fills me, her red-faced stony gaze leaves Alice and turns my way. Her legs are about to give out; I can tell.

Before anyone can reach her, lay their hands upon her, I'm there to catch her in my arms. Scooping her up, I retreat behind the car, issuing a warning growl.

"Edward," Carlisle admonishes.

"Nobody touches her. Are we clear?" My teeth show.

"We would never harm your mate."

"_Are we clear?_ Because if not, we get back in the car and leave here now."

Isabella's arms wrap around my neck, and she presses her face into my shirt as she takes deep gulping breaths.

"No! Please, Edward, you can't go. We can help her," Alice calls out.

"Alice," Carlisle warns. "We're clear, Edward. Please at least stay and hear what I have to say. For the sake of your mate, if for no other reason."

Isabella's arms tighten on me, and she snuggles closer.

"What's wrong?" I whisper into her hair even though I know they can still hear me.

"I can't stay here with them. I'm sorry."

My eyes rise to meet Carlisle's, knowing he heard her.

Esme moves closer, but not far enough to invade my personal space.

"Isabella? I'm Esme, Edward's mother. It's so nice to meet you, dear. I can understand if you don't want to stay in our house, but I have a lovely little cottage on the other end of the property. You and Edward would have privacy, your own space. Do you think that would be acceptable, sweetie?"

If anyone else had tried that, I would have cut them down at the knees, but this was Esme—a woman who had always accepted me no matter what choices I made.

Isabella's head lifts up, and she turns it Esme's way. She looks her over carefully before asking me to put her down.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Yes."

Placing her carefully on her feet, I watch as she walks unsteadily over to Esme. The urge to assist her is strong, but I restrain myself, knowing it would only incense her. Isabella comes to a stop in front of Esme, raising a hand to touch her face. After what seems like forever, but is actually only thirty seconds, Isabella speaks.

"Yes, thank you, Esme. We'll stay in the cottage. I'm not comfortable with everyone in your family." Isabella's eyes light on Jasper. "I want him to stay away from me." She points a shaking finger at him.

Before I've thought about it, I'm standing between Isabella and Jasper, my lip curling. "Do you hear what she said? You keep away."

Before Jasper can respond, Carlisle steps in. "Edward, we'll abide by Isabella's wishes. Why don't the two of you settle into the cottage? We'll talk more later."

"Okay, fine."

"Is it all right if Alice comes around?"

I look to Isabella, who nods her assent.

"Yes, that would be fine. Thank you."

**~*RK*~**

I'm well aware of the location of the cottage. It's just far enough from the main house so my family won't be able to hear us talking, but if an emergency arises, a simple yell will rouse them.

Isabella curls into a ball on the passenger seat, remaining there as I bring our things inside. The cottage is newly cleaned and dusted, the cloying smell of furniture polish lingering in the air. A glance in the refrigerator tells me this was the expected outcome all along—it's filled with healthy food, milk, juice, and Neupogen.

Lifting her out of the car, I carry her straight to the bedroom, tucking the down comforter around her slight body.

"Edward," she calls out softly, and some compulsion inside forces me to turn her way. "Don't leave me."

"Of course not."

"Lay with me?"

I arrange myself on top of the covers, so she won't catch a chill. She already looks so pale and washed out from the meeting with my family.

"What's wrong, Isabella?" I stroke her hair gently, swiping a few strands off her forehead. As my fingers brush over her skin, I realize she's burning up.

"I just need to sleep, Edward." She gazes up at me sleepily, and I think she's about to drift off, but then she grabs my sleeve. "I don't like Jasper. He's harboring a lot of anger toward you, and he made me feel funny."

I sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. She has no idea how right she is—Jasper and I do not get along, and I doubt we ever will. "Can you explain how he made you feel?"

"It was like a wet blanket being draped over me. I'm already so weak, Edward, and whatever he did made me feel as if I might just crumple up, die, and blow away." A lone tear makes its way down her cheek, and rage flares inside me, sharp and hot.

"I'm sorry." I place a kiss on her blistering hot forehead. "Jasper is an empath; he can manipulate the emotions of others. He was probably trying to keep us all calm. I'll make sure he doesn't do that to you again. If he does, he will answer to me." I growl freely, since my natural states of being don't seem to disturb Isabella in the least. It feels good to have the freedom to be myself instead of pretending I'm human.

She gazes up at me with a mixture of affection and gratitude, her hot hand caressing my cheek. "Thank you. I knew you would understand." Her eyes close, and she drifts off into a deep sleep.

I watch over her, feeling the heat radiating off her skin, and my anger grows with it. There's no way I can leave her alone, yet I need to talk with Carlisle. I run through a few different scenarios, but it's unnecessary; a knock sounds on the door just moments later.

Carlisle and Alice stand on the flagstones out front. I consider inviting them inside—we're more than capable of talking without waking Isabella—but find I prefer they don't invade her space any more than they already have.

There is one order of business that must be made clear before we begin. I flash over to Alice, hissing in her face, and she blanches. "You tell your mate that if he ever uses his Jedi mind tricks on Isabella again, there will be hell to pay. I'll break him in half—family or not." Then I turn my fiery gaze on Carlisle. "Keep a tighter leash on your son. _ Nobody_ goes near Isabella without my permission."

Alice merely nods.

Carlisle holds his hands up in a placating gesture, ever the peacekeeper. "Edward, I apologize. I'll speak with Jasper. We want you and Isabella both to feel safe here. She's lovely, Son."

"She's dying." I keep my voice steady with great difficulty.

"We know," Alice says softly. "I think we can help her."

"It's why I came. Surely you don't think I would be here if I had any other option."

Carlisle looks hurt. "I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping..."

"Hoping what? That I would crawl home to you after you kicked me out of your house? Nothing has changed. Look into my eyes, _Sire_."

He growls at me, and I smile because I got a rise out of the unflappable coven leader.

"Yes, I can see that your eyes are claret; however, they are rather dark. When's the last time you fed? Are you sure you still want to continue that lifestyle now that you're mated?"

I whirl on him. "I fed a few weeks ago, just before I found Isabella. Why should being mated change my diet?"

"You're still going to seduce women and drink from them?"

I snort, glaring at Alice. "I should have known you'd be watching me. No, I'm not going to seduce more women. That's not my only food source, you know."

"So you will continue to kill?"

"You self-righteous prick! Don't look down your nose at me. I'm a fucking vampire, and I live off human blood. _You_ are the abnormal ones—living off that poor substitute for sustenance. I kill the dregs of the human population. Those who would harm innocents."

Carlisle shakes his head, obviously disagreeing. "And what does your mate think of your feeding habits?"

"We haven't discussed it in detail, but she is aware and supports me."

"Carlisle, there are more pressing issues we should address. Time is growing short." Alice looks between us, and what I see in her eyes reminds me of why I came here in the first place—not to fight with my family, but to save my mate.

Carlisle sighs. "You're right, Alice. Thanks for the reminder. Edward, I've been working on a Neupogen replacement for Isabella. I believe this will eliminate the need for the Neupogen and will support her blood much more effectively." He pauses, waiting for my nod before he continues. "I'm also working on a cure for her blood anomaly. I'm pretty close, but I'll need a fresh blood sample to continue my research."

Confusion fills me. Granted, Alice would have seen us coming, and I could believe there were better formulations than Neupogen to help bolster Isabella's blood, but I'm thrown for a loop when he speaks of the larger issue of her genetic anomaly.

"Wait... you know about her disorder? How is that possible?"

A faint movement to my right draws my eyes to Alice.

_It's because I saw her, Edward. I've been watching for a while, and as soon as I knew who she was and we obtained a blood sample, Carlisle's been working on a cure._

"You saw her how long ago? I just met her two weeks ago."

"Three years."

"For _three years_ you've known about my mate, and you didn't tell me?" My voice is rising, and I fight to keep it under wraps.

"Well, no. I didn't know _why_ she was important. I started having visions of her, and then I found out who she was. We managed to get a vial of her blood to work with. I just knew she was important to this family, but not why. Edward, if I knew she was yours, I would have told you."

I look deep into her eyes, and although she's effectively blocking me from her mind, the truth is there in her amber irises. "I believe you." But my mind goes over all that transpired in the past two weeks. "And did you know that she would nearly end me?"

"No! By the time I saw the vision, it was too late—she'd cut her hand, and you'd ingested her blood. We debated stepping in, but I could see coming there wouldn't change things for the better. Almost immediately, Isabella felt a pull to save you, and I realized she was yours and you were hers."

"So you've been working on a cure for the anomaly? You feel you might be close?" My eyes bore into Carlisle.

"Yes, Son. I need a fresh blood sample from her, but I'm pretty sure we can counteract the chromosome. And then... well, it's up to the two of you."

"I'll be able to change her?"

"Most likely. If it's what she wants."

"She does," Alice and I speak simultaneously.

For the first time in twenty years, I feel something tightly wound deep inside me begin to loosen.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, so. . . . little bit of tension around the old homestead. Some complex family dynamics. More will be revealed as we go. Many of you have asked if Bella can be injected with venom ala Breaking Dawn in order to turn her. No, she can't. Bella's blood _consumes_ venom, so unless a cure is found, she's out of luck.**

**RK is up for fic of the week at The Lemonade Stand. Your vote would be much appreciated. Thanks to the lovely Nic for pimping out the story! Mwah!  
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**Thank you all for reading. See you next week!  
><strong>

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**


	8. Chapter 8 Hope

**A/N: Thanks ever so much to all who read, rec, review, and lurk this story! RK was up on the TLS fic of the week poll and was in the top five—that's thanks to all my awesome readers. Love you all hard.**

**I also love my prereaders hard: Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. And huge thanks to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding their Sparkly Reds and cleaning up my little messes. ;-)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

**~Hope~**

**_What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise _~ Oscar Wilde**

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><p>Isabella sleeps soundly. Only once during the night does she call out for Hannah—a mother's plaintive cry of anguish. It tears into me, despite the fact that I have no understanding of what it might be like to have or care for a child. I care for <em>this<em> child more than I can express—she belongs to my mate, and her blood saved my life.

I want to do damage to the man that precipitated the nightmare in Isabella's life. I want to slowly break each and every bone in his body, listening to his screams as his bladder and bowels let go. I want to kill James Hunter, first pinching his spinal cord together, paralyzing him. I picture his smarmy face twisting in agony, and I want to tell him before we begin that he's being punished for Isabella and Hannah. I want him to know what sealed his fate.

The molding around the bedroom window crumbles beneath my fingers, my teeth grinding together hard enough to pulverize stone.

Isabella whimpers in her sleep. "Edward . . ." Her heart rate spikes sharply, her body twisting and turning in the sheets. The sharp odor of fear mixes with sweat, creating an unpleasant tang to her scent that disturbs me at a deep level.

Turning away from the window, I wipe my hand on my pants and kneel beside the bed. Isabella is dwarfed by the king-size bed, piles of cream percale and down seeming to swallow her whole. Her lifeless brown hair lies across the pillowcase in thick ropes, but I can tell it would be absolutely stunning if she was in good health.

I stroke her forehead with the tips of my fingers. "Shh . . . Isabella. Everything will be okay."

A slight smile graces her lips, and the lines on her forehead smooth out. My proximity seems to calm her most of the time, and I understand this because I can't bear to be far from her any longer. Idly, I wonder if her whimpers are a result of dreams or if she picked up on my anger and distress over James Hunter and what he's done.

Thankfully, the sun rises on the other side of the cottage, but I draw the blinds closed anyway, knowing she needs rest more than anything else right now.

There are several pre-filled syringes of the concoction Carlisle designed to replace the Neupogen in the refrigerator. Isabella is due for another injection mid-morning, and I'm hoping she'll agree to try the new drug. The medicine is a deep shade of plum with pale gold tendrils suspended in the viscous liquid, and I realize it's going to hurt far more than the Neupogen going in.

Just as I consider waking her, she sits up, stretching her arms. I perch on the side of the bed, taking her hands in mine, and place a kiss on her palm. I graze my nose over the inside of each wrist in turn, delighting in her scent but in no way attracted to her blood, and I wonder if she smells 'off' to all vampires.

"Good morning, Isabella. How do you feel?"

"I'm . . . okay." She looks me over cautiously. "Have you met with your family?"

"With Alice and Carlisle, yes. Things are tense, as they will be, but I don't want you to worry over anything. I've informed them Jasper is to stay away from you. Family or not, I won't allow him to harm you—or even make you uncomfortable."

She nods, and I can almost hear the wheels turning before she speaks. "But why? You've known them for _decades_ and me only a few weeks. I'm dying, and they . . . they will be around for eternity."

"You are my mate, Isabella. That puts you above all others, including myself. I will do anything for you. Anything." I grasp her hands in mine and remain silent until she looks up and acknowledges the truth. "I have something else to discuss with you. Carlisle has come up with a Neupogen substitute, and he feels it will boost your blood more effectively. I have some in the fridge, but I must warn you that I know nothing about it, and it will hurt a great deal more to administer due to the consistency."

"Do _you_ trust Carlisle? Do you think his formulation will help me?"

"Yes. Despite any differences I have with my father, I trust his medical decisions implicitly."

"Then I'll try it."

In the blink of an eye, I'm back at her bedside with a syringe. I swipe her arm with an alcohol pad, asking her if she's ready. She nods, and I insert the needle into her upper arm as gently as I can. Pushing the drug slow and steady, I try not to falter when she winces and tears prick at her eyes. I knew this was going to hurt her, and an answering ache throbs in my chest. Once again, I'm shocked by how connected we really are.

"Are you hungry? Can I bring you something?" I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, simply an excuse to touch her again.

"Actually, I'd like to get up for a while. Is there a comfortable place?"

Smiling to myself, I know just the spot to lift her spirits. I scoop her off the bed, ignoring her grumbles, and walk through the rooms until we reach the sun-porch. It's an enclosed room made of glass, with white wicker furnishings and floral-printed padded cushions. There are many plants around the room, lending it the feel of a garden. The warmth of the sun can be felt through the panes of glass, and I set her down on the loveseat where she'll receive the most benefit.

"Oh . . . this is lovely, Edward." Her smile is full and genuine, and her brown eyes sparkle in a way I haven't experienced before.

"Get comfortable, and I'll bring you something to eat." Before I go, I offer her a blanket, which she spreads over her legs.

"Thank you." She snags my sleeve, smiling up at me for a moment, and I feel my heart break just a little more.

Once she's eaten, I sit beside her holding her hand. There's a pleasant tingling in the center of my chest, and I'm pretty sure it's directly related to my ever growing connection to Isabella. The sun is higher in the sky, but its warm healing rays continue to penetrate the domed glass.

"Do you have some questions for me? I completely monopolized the trip here asking about your past."

"Yes. I'd love to know everything about you, but there are certain things in the forefront of my mind." She blushes, looking down at our joined hands.

"Ask me anything at all. I won't hide from you." I raise our hands, pressing a kiss to the back of hers.

"All right . . . why did you leave your family? Most of them seem to really love and miss you."

"Start with the easy ones, why don't you?" I laugh shortly, gazing out the windows to take in the grayish sky. "Well, the short answer is because I started drinking human blood. After a great deal of conflict, Carlisle decided I had to toe the line or get out. I got out."

Isabella turns my palm over, tracing the lines with her warm fingertip. "So you stopped drinking human blood for a while and drank . . . from animals?"

"Yes." My one-word answer contains a great deal of disgust. "I tried to live their way. I tried to subsist on that fetid slop, but in the end, I couldn't do it. Please understand, I never kill indiscriminately. Many I didn't kill at all."

"You can feed and not kill?"

"Yes. It's tricky for many vampires, but I have excellent control."

"James once said humans aren't supposed to know about the existence of vampires, so how do you feed and leave them alive? Don't they realize what you are?"

"Women tend to find me attractive, so I've exploited that somewhat. I've allowed women to seduce me, and I drank from them . . . during sex." I swallow hard. Although I'm not ashamed of what I've done to feed, it's more difficult than I expected to admit it to Isabella. The thought of touching another woman that way now is repugnant to me.

"I see," she answers, and I can't tell by her expression what she feels about my admission.

"I would never do that again—not now that I'm mated. Before, I had no reason not to."

"Edward, you don't have to apologize to me for your past. I know you won't do that anymore."

I cock my head to the side, gazing at her with consternation. "And how would you know that?"

"I feel it here." She presses a hand to her chest and then places it on mine. "You belong to me, and I belong to you."

"You're absolutely right." I can't help but smile at her. She's so accepting of me, which is something I've experienced only rarely over the past century.

"And how will you feed now?"

"My other source of food is the dregs of society—those who would attack, rob, rape, or murder innocents. Nobody misses them when they're gone, and it makes the world a better place."

She raises a hand to caress my face. "It must be hard, though. You have to deal with the ugliness of their thoughts."

Surely she isn't sympathizing with me? I tip her chin up until our eyes meet. "Isabella, aren't you disgusted by my admissions?"

"No. Why should I be? After all, you're being quite generous by eating the riffraff instead of the commoners. I mean, you _are_ a vampire, after all. Vampires drink human blood; it's just part of evolution. Humans think they're at the top of the food chain, but apparently, they're wrong." She shrugs, a faraway look in her eyes. "And maybe humans like me and James, who have the blood anomaly, help keep the playing field somewhat even."

"You're incredible—you know that?"

She shrugs. "Just realistic. So you were given an ultimatum by Carlisle, and you chose to leave?"

"Yes."

"I don't blame you. I think I would've done the same. What about Jasper? His bitterness toward you seems excessive."

"Ah, Jasper. Well, his control is nowhere near as good as mine. He's always been pissed off that I had an easy time of it and he hasn't. He killed many innocents back in the day, and he carries immeasurable guilt around with him all the time. He started drinking animal blood because his mate—my sister, Alice—does. His desire to join the Cullen Clan is what led him to fight to abstain from human blood, but it's a constant battle for him.

"He resents me for rebelling against the credo of our coven, for having the control to drink without killing, and for going off on my own and breaking Alice's heart. We've also clashed over his empathic ability. I prefer not to have my emotions manipulated, and he tried to use his gift to rein me in when I decided to leave."

"How did you break Alice's heart?"

"We were extremely close. I think more so because of the nature of our gifts. I've often been able to see the visions Alice has, and she's sometimes predicted things that were happening in my life. She knew before any of us that I would be leaving the family."

"I'm sorry, Edward." Her hand tightens on mine, and I squeeze back gently.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for."

"How old were you when you were changed?"

"Seventeen, but I can pass for much older. Are you afraid you'll look like a cougar with me?" I chuckle, smirking at her slyly.

"No! Of course not!" Isabella giggles, and it's the single most wonderful sound I've ever heard throughout my existence.

Later on, while we're watching the Seinfeld DVDs that mysteriously appeared by the front door, Carlisle stops over to check on Isabella.

_I'm alone, Son. _His thoughts accompany the soft knock at the front door.

Isabella, who's been quite relaxed, curled against me under a blanket, stiffens at the sound. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arm around her. "It's okay. It's just my father come to check on you. Is it all right if Carlisle comes in for a few minutes?"

She looks carefully into my eyes, and appears to be satisfied with what she sees. "Y-yes."

Her heart rate rises, and the scent of adrenaline assaults me. It angers me that my mate has to feel such anxiety—especially at the hands of my own family. _Thank you, Jasper._

"Come in, Carlisle." I haven't bothered to lock the doors; any vampire could disintegrate a doorknob with the flick of a wrist, and no human would make it this far without my family being alerted. I see no reason to insult her intelligence with false security measures.

Carlisle enters slowly, taking a seat on the armchair that sits perpendicular to the couch.

"Hello, Isabella. I'm Carlisle Cullen," he says softly. He smiles but refrains from touching her.

"Hi. It's nice to meet you." She turns her face his way, and Carlisle and I can both hear her heart beating hard. "Thank you for the new drug. It's so kind of you to try and come up with something to help me." Cheeks flushing, she looks down and picks at threads on the blanket that rests on her lap.

"You're very welcome. You're Edward's mate, which makes you part of our family, too."

"Yes, Edward said the same thing to me. Whatever the reason, I'm very grateful. I've been . . . growing weaker."

Hearing the words twists like a knife inside me. It isn't as if I didn't know, but somehow, the words hanging in the air are much more potent. The now-familiar pain flares in my chest at the thought of losing her.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but let's see what we can do about it. Any negative side effects from the shot Edward gave you this morning?"

"No. It hurt like hell going in, but I have no bone pain, and I actually feel a little bit better. I'm not sure if I'm imaging that part, though." She smiles sheepishly, looking between us.

"It's entirely possible that you will begin to feel better almost immediately."

_Edward, have you told her about my research into her extra chromosome?_

I shake my head then touch her cheek to draw her attention.

"Isabella, you know how I explained Alice is psychic? Well, she had visions of you as far back as three years ago." I pause for a moment when she gasps before continuing. "She didn't know _how_ you fit into our family, but she knew you needed help. Carlisle has been working on a cure and believes he's very close."

"Really?" Her eyes sparkle with hope.

"Yes, I'm very close. I will need a fresh blood sample to finish testing. The sample Alice was able to procure is from two years ago, and I've run out. Your blood is also changing due to the leukemia."

"How did she get the sample?"

"Blood bank. You were having a transfusion, so Alice took the tube from the type and cross-match."

"Oh, I remember that! They lost the tube of blood and had to draw it again. Everyone was going crazy because they couldn't understand where it went." She looks at me in wonder, clearly amazed with the whole situation. "And did Alice know I was Edward's mate?"

"No, she had no idea. Alice didn't see that until Edward found you and was incapacitated by ingesting your blood. When you felt a pull toward him and decided to save him, then she knew for sure."

"Does she know if I'm going to . . . die soon?" Isabella asks so softly only a vampire would hear.

I growl low in my throat and pull her into my arms. "You're going to be just fine."

_We just don't know yet, Edward._

My eyes blaze into Carlisle's, and if he knows what's good for him, he won't dash Isabella's hopes in any way.

Carlisle nods imperceptibly before speaking. "Alice's gift doesn't work quite that way, I'm afraid. She sees likely outcomes based on decisions that are made, so the future is continually morphing."

"That must be hard for her," she speaks against my shirt, where I cradle her head against the pain in my chest.

A few minutes later, Carlisle draws a few tubes of blood from Isabella and packs them away in his medical bag.

"I need to speak with my father for a few minutes. Will you be okay here? Is there anything you need?"

"I'll be fine." She smiles up at me, and I'm overcome with a love so overwhelming it nearly drops me to my knees. Grabbing my hand, she whispers, "I feel it, too, Edward." A few tears escape her beautiful brown eyes, but it's clear they aren't borne of sadness this time.

I lean in to kiss her and stroke my fingers through her hair. "I'll be right outside if you need me," I whisper against her lips.

Carlisle and I walk around to the back of the cottage where long shadows indicate the coming night. It appears he's better able to block his thoughts from me these days. There was a time I could read every errant thought he had, even extremely embarrassing ones, but now he's fairly silent unless he's directing something my way.

"I can't hear you much," I comment.

"It's disturbing to be so open to another." That's all the explanation he offers, and I decide not to push.

Frankly, I often find it a burden to be inside the heads of others, although it serves its purpose at times, especially in my line of work. As I turn to face him, he's grinning.

"What?"

"You. And her. You two are so . . . perfect together. You care so deeply for her, Edward. It does my heart good to see."

"I never expected to feel this way about anyone. I never really _believed_ until it happened."

"That's how it is with mates. It's an inexplicable thing of beauty."

"Father, something has been bothering me. Sometimes I feel pain . . ." I rub a hand over my chest ". . . in here, related to Isabella. If I think about her being harmed or dying, it hurts. And she can _sense_ my pain. Is that a normal occurrence with mates?"

Carlisle raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. "No, it's not. Mates have a strong connection, and one will often sense it if the other perishes, but I've never heard of anyone experiencing what you're describing—not to that degree."

"If I get too far from her, I also feel pain. We stopped at a diner on the way here, and I went inside to get food. I was only in there for ten minutes, but by the time I got out to the car, I was desperate to touch her." I gaze up at the stars that now peek through the cloud cover. My next question fills me with trepidation, but the compulsion to voice it is too strong to ignore. "If she dies . . . what will happen to me? Even the thought of it causes immeasurable pain inside me. I don't believe I could survive it."

Carlisle lays a hand on my shoulder. "I don't honestly know, Son. Based on what you're describing to me and what I know about mated pairs . . . it would likely be far worse for you. Some vampires that lose their mates go on to have other relationships, although they could never measure up to their mate. Some go insane, becoming feral and going on rampages, and others . . ." he drifts off, but I catch his thought. _Find a way to join their mate._

"For the first time in this existence I feel accepted for what I am. Isabella doesn't question our connection because she feels it, too. She doesn't care that I drink human blood or what I've done in my past."

"So you've been honest with her about everything?"

"Yes. She knows why I left the family, about Jasper's issues with me . . . how I fed up until I met her. All of it."

"I can't say I agree with your choices, Edward, but I'm glad you've been honest with Isabella."

"Do you believe you can save her?"

_Yes._

I close my eyes, a feeling of gratefulness welling up inside me.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: You guys are a curious (and expressive!) bunch. I wish I could answer all your questions. I do love reading your theories, musings, and even the emotional outbursts. To those who are waiting for Edward to change his blood drinking philosophy... don't hold your breath. And Jasper _is_ a total douche in this story.**

**For readers of _Broken Windows_, there will be an update this week. I have two chapters written, and I'm working on a third. They will all be posted approximately a week apart.  
><strong>

**Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**


	9. Chapter 9 Moves Like Masen

**A/N: Thanks ever so much to all who read, rec, review, and lurk this story! RK was one of the fics of the week at TLS this past week. Edward licks to Nic for the pimpin' and Dragonfly336 for the awesome review! Mwah!**

**I love my prereaders hard: Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. And huge thanks to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding their Sparkly Reds and cleaning up my little messes. ;-)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

**~Moves Like Masen~**

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><p><strong><em>I can feel you almost there<br>And it's plain to see  
>Going down so easily<br>I want you to look at me_ **

**Excerpt from_ Loaded _~ SEAL**

**~*RK*~  
><strong>

Over the past several days, Isabella's health has improved quite a bit. There's a tender pink undertone to her pale skin that makes her positively glow when she blushes, and her hair has gone from a dull, dreary brown to a lush mahogany streaked with many shades of golden brown and red. Her appetite and stamina have picked up, and we've started taking daily walks on the wooded paths around the cottage.

In the evenings, we watch _Seinfeld_ and movies. Mostly _Seinfeld_. Isabella has what I consider a borderline unhealthy obsession with the quirky comedy. Personally, I find it ridiculous, but when I see the healthy glow brought to her cheeks when she laughs, I want to bring Jerry Seinfeld here for a private show.

Carlisle checks on her daily and seems encouraged by her progress. He's been working on the cure for the blood anomaly every spare minute and requested some time off from the hospital in order to concentrate more fully on it. Despite the differences I have with my sire, I'll never be able to express to him just how grateful I am for the effort he's putting in to save my mate. Somehow, although I've been barely civil to him since I returned, I think he knows.

I questioned him about Rosalie and Emmett when the subject hadn't come up over a period of days, and he informed me they've spent the past few months in Alaska, visiting with the Denali Coven. When I showed my surprise—two beautiful, bitchy vampires in the same house and all—Carlisle smirked. Apparently, Emmett and Rose were staying in an out-of-the-way cabin nearby.

Carlisle warned me about Alice blabbing that I was home, and he said he expects my missing siblings to return shortly. Internally, I rolled my eyes. While Emmett was a favorite because of his lighthearted and kind nature, I disliked his mate for being the antithesis of everything he is. Rosalie could turn Medusa to stone.

This morning Alice left a digital camera at the front door with a note.

_Bring this with you when you go for a walk later._

_~Ali_

Today is chilly but clear, and I sit on the nearly frozen ground with my back against a tree, watching Isabella. I look on with great interest as she squeals over something near the brook and pulls out the camera. I smirk to myself, knowing Alice was right yet again.

Isabella is utterly adorable bundled up in a puffy blue parka, matching hat and glove set, and fleece lined boots. She shot me a dirty look when I walked out of the cottage in jeans and a t-shirt, but I have no need to pretend here.

"Edward! Come look."

I rise to my feet and walk over to her slowly, taking her in. Her back is to me, and she's hunched over something on the ground. I can hear the soft clicks as she takes multiple pictures, and I smile to myself, wondering what has her so captivated. The past few weeks, Isabella has been a breath of fresh air for me, helping to dissolve my apathy and giving me so many reasons to love life again.

"What is it?" I ask, placing my hands on her hips.

She startles, nearly dropping the camera. "Damn it, Edward! You really mustn't sneak up on me that way!"

"_You _called_ me_ over, remember?" I smirk, knowing full well I could've done a better job announcing my presence.

She turns to face me, bundled up like a toddler out to play in the snow, and my smile widens. Her nose is red, but despite the cold, this is where she wants to be. Our eyes meet, and I know I'm snagged; I was so caught up in my observations of her I forgot to school my features into my innocent look.

"You! You did that on purpose just to get a rise out of me!" Isabella slaps my arm. "Ow! Damn made-of-stone vampires," she mutters crossly.

"I have to say, you're cute when you're mad—like a fierce little kitten." I tap her pert red nose with my index finger.

She grabs my hand, pulling me with her. "Just forget all that. Look at this."

We crouch down together beside two large rocks at the edge of the stream. Between them is a perfect pink flower.

"Isn't it awesome? A flower growing here, in the winter, perfectly healthy. And the best part? There's a baby flower right behind it."

Sure enough, there's a little seedling with a closed pink bud on its stem directly behind the larger flower.

"It's beautiful, Isabella. Is this what you're taking pictures of?"

"Yes."

She seems overly excited about a flower.

"Can you explain why you're so excited by it?" I cock my head to the side.

"Well, look around. Do you see any other flowers growing out here in the middle of the winter? Maybe it's silly, but it seems like a sign to me. A flower surviving in an unlikely place and new life budding right behind it. I guess . . . my hope is this flower symbolizes me, and the little one . . . Hannah. And the rocks surrounding them would be you and your family." Suddenly her face falls, and she looks down. "Saying it out loud, I feel really silly. You must think I'm so foolish."

I tip her face up until our eyes meet. "No, Isabella. I don't think you're foolish at all. I love that you see things others don't think of. I'm going to make that dream come true for you if it's the last thing I ever do. I promise."

She squeals with delight and wraps her arms around me. I look over her shoulder at the flowers that filled her with such longing, and I hope to God I can deliver.

On the walk back to the cottage, she tells me that she's always been interested in photography but never had the chance to do anything about it. Once we're inside, I make her hot chocolate before bringing the pictures she took up on the computer. It's obvious she has some talent, and I'm glad Alice dropped the camera off.

Isabella is still shivering after an hour, and I suggest a soak in the tub. This idea seems to appeal to her, so I draw her a nice hot bath. There are some bath beads in the vanity, and I sprinkle some into the steaming water until it's frothy with bubbles. I find some candles, placing them in strategic places around the room until the bathroom is filled with a soft glow.

When I lead her into the room, she gasps. "This is beautiful, Edward. Thank you."

Turning her toward me, I kiss her slowly, my hands roaming over her back. "You're beautiful," I whisper.

I undress her, moving at an unhurried pace. We haven't gone beyond kissing and cuddling so far, and I keep my eyes on hers as her clothes hit the floor piece by piece. Her breath catches, but she doesn't object, and I continue to look into her eyes as I help her into the Jacuzzi tub.

"Oh . . ." she sighs, eyes fluttering closed as the warmth envelops her. "This is just what I need."

"Would you like me to give you some time alone?"

"I'd like it if you stayed," she answers, looking down shyly.

"Whatever you want." I swipe a finger over her heated cheek. "Your wish is my command." She has no idea how true this really is. I would do anything to make her happy, to see the flush of pleasure or embarrassment heat those lovely cheeks, to hear her infectious laughter.

I wouldn't exactly classify myself as cold and unfeeling, but I've never found myself concerned with anyone else's happiness before. Now, I'd stand on my head if I thought it would make Isabella smile. Her well-being is my only concern.

"This is divine." Her head rests against the edge of the tub, and her eyes are closed.

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" I can't believe I'm asking her this, but as I say the words, I find I'd love nothing more than to bury my fingers in her lush locks.

"Yes, please."

"Do you mind if I get in there with you?"

She looks up at me, startled, and lowers her lashes demurely. "I'd like that."

Before she has time to realize what's happening, I've shed my clothes and eased into the tub behind her.

"Oh! You move so fast." She looks over her shoulder at me. "And you barely left a ripple in the water."

I smile, pulling her back against my chest with my arms around her, again reveling in the fact she isn't repelled by my inhuman characteristics.

The steamy water begins to warm my cool temperature almost immediately, and the feel of her skin on mine awakens other urges within me. My cock hardens, pressing up against my stomach, and I place my hands on her hips, shifting her forward slightly. I want her desperately but don't want to risk making her feel uncomfortable or thinking I had ulterior motives by joining her in the bath.

Moving her hair aside to expose the back of her neck, I trail a finger along the delicate curve from just below her ear to the tip of her shoulder, eliciting a shiver. With a soft sighing moan, Isabella tilts her head to the side, offering me better access. I replace my finger with my lips, dropping gentle kisses along her fragrant skin until my mouth rests against her earlobe.

"You bewitch me," I murmur.

"I was thinking the same thing about you." Her heart picks up speed, and she turns to look back at me, running her fingertips over my cheek.

Leaning in, I take her offered mouth, sliding my tongue between her lips to explore the burning hot, petal soft interior. Isabella loops her arm up around my neck, moaning softly as the kiss deepens in intensity.

I snake one hand around her exposed ribs to cradle her breast in my hand, gently rolling the nipple between my thumb and index finger. Her body is so responsive to my touch, her back arching, pressing her chest farther into my hand. I bring my other hand around her waist, dipping down over her flat stomach until I can slide a finger between her lower lips, stroking over the rapidly engorging silken bud. It's so incredibly soft, slick, and warm inside her, and her body stays bent back toward mine, her fingers finding purchase in the hair at the nape of my neck as she accepts my touches.

She pulls back from the kiss with a soft 'Oh,' her eyes opening wide and meeting mine for a moment before fluttering closed as her head lolls back on my shoulder, and her fingers tighten in my hair. I brush my lips back and forth along the side of her neck, sampling her flavor. My arms now surround her body, and I continue playing across her nipples while swirling my finger over her sex with a feather-light touch. Every stretch of her body, each little sound she makes, and the convulsive clutch of her fingers in my hair tell me how much she wants and needs this.

I've been yearning to touch her this way for days, but I didn't dare to while she was so sick and weak. I'm grateful she's feeling better, but I know the drug Carlisle designed is only temporary; eventually, the leukemia will steal away her life—if he doesn't find the cure in time.

Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I concentrate on Isabella and bringing her pleasure. I run my tongue up the back of her neck, and she coos. I knead each soft globe in turn, experimenting with pressure and soft tweaks of her nipples—she likes medium pressure but enjoys harder pinches. When I slide two fingers inside her, rubbing slow circles over her clit with my thumb, she mewls so sweetly.

Encouraging her to sit forward with her knees bent, I'm able to penetrate deeper inside, curling my fingers as I stroke her. I place open-mouthed kisses over her upper back, suckling on the tender skin that stretches over each of her still-prominent shoulder blades. I lick along the shape of the bone there, unsure why it fascinates and turns me on so much.

Isabella pants, her hips pulsing forward to meet each thrust of my fingers.

"My God, Edward . . ." she whispers.

"That's my girl. Just relax, and let the sensations wash over you." I drop more kisses along the back of her shoulder. "You're safe with me. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

Her answer is an incoherent moan, her hips rocking against my hand. She throws her head back, and I feel her body clenching and pulsing around my fingers as she comes.

"Yes, my Isabella. Let go for me."

When she finally comes down, she leans back against me breathlessly. "Oh, my God. That was . . . awesome." Despite my best efforts, her low back bumps up against my rigid cock, and she gasps. "You're so hard, I—"

"Shh . . . This isn't about me right now."

"But—"

"No buts."

Shifting quickly, I slide around the front of her, laying her head against the edge of the tub on top of a bath pillow. She's surprised when I appear before her, but she relaxes quickly, smiling. Her eyes are bright, cheeks flushed so lovely, and I can almost believe she's not sick and dying.

Leaning over her, I touch my lips to hers, a slow burning kiss. The warm tingling feeling spreads through my chest again, small sparks shooting through my limbs. The more I touch her, the more connected we become. I can feel the threads of the mating bond growing stronger, and though I know the closer we get, the more likely it is I will die with her if she goes, I welcome it. Life would be unbearable without her.

Her warm mouth opens under mine, and our tongues meet, both of us moaning at the contact. I'm fairly certain she's having the same responses to the ties that continue to knit together, binding us to one another. My hips flex forward, and I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her. It's with great difficulty that I don't; this moment is for her alone, and my own pleasure means nothing.

Kissing my way across her delicate jaw, I whisper against the shell of her ear, "I love you, Isabella."

A whimper escapes; her fingers try to find purchase on my shoulders, but they slide off. She locks her arms around my neck, gripping my hair.

"Edward, look at me."

I obey, pushing back so my hands rest against the side of the tub to either side of her shoulders. Her hands slide around from behind my head to caress my face, her gaze roaming over my features. When her eyes meet mine, they're brimming with tears.

"I love you, too." She giggles, placing a hand over her mouth.

"And that would be something to giggle over why?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"Oh!" She looks horrified. "Sorry. It's just such a relief to say it. I've been holding it inside me since we were in the cabin."

"You have?" I can't hold back my smile.

Isabella rubs her index finger along the curve of my lips, a matching smile lighting her face. "Yes."

"Say it again?"

"I love you, Edward. I thought what I had with James was love at one time . . . but since meeting you, I've felt things I never even dreamed of."

"I know what you mean. I've never felt this way about anyone. You accept me for what I am. I can't tell you what that means to me, Isabella."

I lean in to kiss her sweet lips again then make my way down the front of her graceful neck to pepper kisses over her breast bone. My lips go lower, beneath the water, to capture one of her velvety nipples.

"What are you doing under the water?"

Rising back up, I smirk at her. "Vampires don't need to breathe, sweet one."

I go back to circling my tongue around a nipple, gazing up at her, only my eyes and the top of my nose out of the water. Slowly I work my way down to her navel, now completely submerged under the evaporating bubbles. I'm already between her legs, but I sink lower and slide my arms under her knees, urging her to open to me. Vampires can hear well under water, too, and she gasps once she realizes my intent.

Parting her lips with two fingers, I lap at her sensitive little nub, which still pulses faintly from her first orgasm. I can taste her essence, so musky and decadent, but it's covered over by the fragrant oil of bath beads and diluted by the water. Isabella's back arches, and she whimpers as I run my tongue up and down her slit, greedily tasting what I can of her juices before they dissipate into the bathwater.

Gripping her hip with one hand, I hold her in place as I plunge my tongue deep inside. She moans, trying to squirm, the sweetest little sounds issuing from her throat. Her fingers finally find purchase in my hair, and she digs them deep, curling them tight against my scalp.

Wanting better access, desiring to have her laid out before me, I grasp the soft cheeks of her ass in my hands, lifting and pulling her toward me. Sliding her legs over my shoulders, I support her back by spreading one palm there, one perfectly rounded cheek still cradled in the other.

There's an unintelligible sound from Isabella, but it's definitely _not _one of distress, so I continue. Placing my mouth back over her vulnerable, wide-openness, I kiss from her throbbing little nub all the way down to her opening. With gentle circles, I delve my tongue inside her oh-so-slowly, going deeper with each pass.

"Edward," she pants. "I can't believe you're doing this in the bath . . . but it feels so _good_."

I continue my slow revolutions until she begins to beg me to go faster. To give her more. Knowing she's ready, I do what only a vampire can do—lave her with my tongue everywhere at once. From deep inside her warmth, my tongue moves out to flick at her engorged clit before darting back inside—always conscious of the signals her body is giving me, aware of how much pressure I'm using against her tender flesh.

"What are you doing to me?" she gasps breathlessly. "Oh, God, _more_. I want more."

I've been between many a woman's legs in my time, and not one of them has complained. But this woman is my mate; she means a million times more to me than all of the others combined. Bringing her to the heights of pleasure is all I aspire to in this moment.

Isabella reaches the brink, and I can feel her entire body freeze and stiffen for the briefest of moments before she cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding on for dear life as she comes so beautifully. Her juices are captured by my mouth as my suckles turn to soft laps, the taste like nothing I've ever experienced. The richest, most robust blood I've ever tasted is nothing compared to the heady scent and taste of my mate.

Letting her down slowly, I rise up from the water, shaking my head and sending droplets everywhere.

"Edward!" she giggles, covering her face.

I slide a hand behind her neck, lifting her toward me, and pulling away the hand that keeps her from me. When we're eye to eye, I whisper, "You are the most beautiful and precious thing in this existence. I love the sound of your laughter, but please never cover your face from me."

"Okay, I won't." She smiles, caressing my face between her hands. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Because I slid under the water and—"

"Stop! I meant, how did I get so lucky that you're my mate? You silly vampire."

"Silly vampire? I've been called many things in my time—some of them quite colorful—but I've never been called silly. Scary, ferocious, a bastard, selfish, and things that would make a sailor blush, but leave it to you to come up with something unique."

"Are you angry?" Her smirk tells me she's teasing.

"Enraged. You're going to ruin my reputation."

"You know, you never did wash my hair."

"I didn't. Let's rectify that."

Slipping back behind her, I pour shampoo in my hands and massage it gently into her scalp. She moans as my fingers work their way through her long tresses. I've never washed a woman's hair before, but I enjoy the experience immensely.

"You're moaning almost as loud as when I made you come, sweet one," I tease, kissing the side of her neck.

"Not true! I've never screamed louder than when your tongue was—um, you know—doing that thing it was doing. What _were_ you doing anyway?"

"Can't tell you that."

"Is it a vampire secret?"

"No, it's a patented Masen move."

"Tested, tried, and true?"

"No. Tried and true, but only tested out on you."

Isabella turns sideways so she can face me. She looks adorable with her hair all lathered up and her cheeks pink. I'm reminded suddenly of taking baths when I was a child. I always loved the way I looked when I stepped out and wiped away the fog on the mirror to gaze at myself. So innocent and pure. So clean and not a care in the world, as if I'd washed away all my misdeeds and was presented with a clean slate. I've since learned the hard way that there is no clean slate for any of us.

"Really?" she whispers, pulling me out of my thoughts. "You've never done that to any . . . others?"

"No, never. I slept with women, bringing them pleasure in return for a drink, but I never cared about any of them. I didn't desire to please them; it was a means to an end. With you, it means so much more to me than my own pleasure or need."

"You never cease to amaze me, Edward." She presses a kiss against the corner of my mouth then turns back so I can finish washing her hair.

By the time she's ready to get out of the bath, the skin on her fingers and toes is wrinkled. I step out and dry myself at vampire speed and have the towel slung low on my hips before she registers it.

"What the—"

"Cool trick, huh?"

"No! I was hoping to get a peek."

Lifting her from the cooling water, I place her on her feet and begin rubbing a fluffy towel over her nakedness before wrapping it around and securing it snugly. When I'm satisfied she's not cold, I tug her to me by the front of the towel, leaning down for a kiss.

"Isabella, soon enough you will get more than just a peek. I belong only to you now." _And you are mine. God help anyone who tries to stand between us. _I fight back the urge to growl possessively.

"And I belong to you, Edward Masen. Body and soul." Her warm fingers run over my pecs and stomach, leaving a trail of fire. When they reach the edge of my rapidly tenting towel, I grasp her wrist.

"Not now, sweet one. But soon."

"I want to bring _you_ pleasure, though."

Her lower lip pouts out, and I capture it between my lips and suck on it, wrapping my arms around her petite frame. She can't possibly know how adorable I find her or how little I've given a damn about every other female I touched before her.

"Oh, Isabella, you have no idea what you do for me already. Making love to you will be the most cathartic experience I've ever had." I tip her chin up until her eyes meet my blazing ones. "You'll need your rest before that because I fully intend to worship your body for hours." This time I can't hold back the possessive growl.

Isabella draws in a sharp breath, and I smell a fresh wave of her arousal wafting through the bathroom. A smug smile tugs at my lips; she wants me just as desperately as I want her. When the time comes, it's sure to be mind blowing.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: A little lemony aside to soothe the burn. It was mentioned to me that this chapter didn't advance the plot of the story, but I kind of think it did. Opinions? The drama will return next week, but never fear—there will be schmexing in this story. Look who you're talking to here, hehe.**

**For readers of _Broken Windows_, there will be another update released early next week and another chapter the week after that.**

**I'm working hard on my novel, _The Weight of Roses_, and I apologize for delays on updates for some of my fanfics. I'm doing the best I can, and I greatly appreciate your support and patience. I do promise they will all be finished—no pulling and no abandoned stories.**

**Recs this week: _Thump_ by Chartwilightmom and _Prey for the Wicked_ by Aleeab4u. Both are nummy vampfics!**

**Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**

**Blog: SaritaDreaming (dot) wordpress (dot)com**


	10. Chapter 10 Lions and Tigers and Bears

**A/N: Hey, guys! So everyone seemed to really enjoy Edward underwater. I wanted to ask my hubby how long he could hold his breath... Thanks ever so much to all who read, rec, review, and lurk this story! **

**A bubble bath with Edward to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, although not all at once—take turns, girls, and play nice. *cough* **

**Huge thanks to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for wielding their Sparkly Reds and cleaning up my little messes. ;-)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Lions and Tigers and Bears**

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><p>"<strong><em>Those things which are precious are saved only by sacrifice."<em> ~ David Kenyon Webster**

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><p>A soft knock at the door announces the arrival of Alice. She's been leaving little gifts outside but hasn't come to speak to me in nearly a week. I'm not sure if she's trying to hold something back or has simply been treading lightly. Considering how antagonistic Jasper has been toward me, I suspect he hasn't made it easy for her to approach me.<p>

"Just a moment, Alice."

I glance over to where Isabella is sprawled across the mattress, her petite body taking up more than her fair share of the King-size bed. After our earlier romp in the bath, she allowed me to dry her hair and pull a nightshirt over her head. I scooped her up in my arms, carrying her from the walk-in closet over to the bed, where I pulled back the puffy comforter, tucking it all around her once she was settled. After an hour or so, she grew restless, kicking most of the covers off. The nightshirt came down to mid-thigh, but a tempting expanse of her leg was left exposed, and the fact that I'm well aware she's bare underneath sharpens my desire for her.

She lies on her back, body twisted to the side, breathing regular. Her brow is smooth, and there's been no indication of bad dreams so far. I leave my post at the window and place a kiss on her forehead before heading to the front door.

I slip outside, greeting Alice with a curt nod.

She looks up at me with uncertainty in her eyes. "I miss you."

"Alice, please. Let's not do this."

I look away toward the trees. This is hard for me, too. Alice is the one person in the family I was closest with, but back then, my issues with Jasper began driving a wedge between them. When Carlisle came down on me about my blood drinking, I took the opportunity to flee the scene, thus removing the caustic splinter that was beginning to infect their relationship. Alice was too tender-hearted to choose, and Jasper was too fucking selfish to back off, so I made the choice for her. Part of me has loved and missed her all these years—a part I've kept carefully locked away inside that now threatens to come forth.

"Edward, I'm sorry about Jasper. He . . . well, you know he has a hard time—with the blood."

"He resents my control because he knows if he tastes a drop of human blood, he's likely to go on a rampage—one that would thoroughly eradicate the treaty."

"Perhaps." Her voice is soft and holds a slight quiver—unusual for a vampire, but indicative of her need to control a great deal of emotion while attempting to block me from her mind.

"Jasper also resented my relationship with you. He didn't care for how close we were."

I'm glad she doesn't even bother trying to hide it. She knows it's true, that _I_ know because I read it in his mind more than once. Back then, the vitriol between Jasper and I continued to grow, nearly ending in a physical altercation a number of times. Knowing I was the black sheep, the piece that had no real place in the puzzle, I chose to go.

Alice's small hand slips into mine. I allow the contact, but I continue gazing into the trees, refusing to return the gesture of affection or even look into her beseeching eyes. I sigh, rubbing my other hand over my face.

"Why are you here, Ali?" I don't mean to, but I reference my pet name for her, and I feel an answering squeeze within our joined hands.

"Edward, there are some issues that need to be dealt with. Surely you haven't forgotten the upcoming trial or the fact you were hired to bring her in. You need to say something to Jenks soon, or suspicions will be raised. It's not quite clear, but I think Senator Hunter may have hired more than one bounty hunter."

Our eyes meet. That would _not_ be a good thing. I need to find a way to prove Isabella's innocence so the court will stop looking for her. The other option is to fake her death. In reality, death is a foregone conclusion for Isabella—either she'll die of natural causes or Carlisle will come up with the cure in time for me to change her. She'll never return to her previous life no matter what.

"That might work, Edward, if you can find a way to satisfy the authorities that she truly is dead. Let's say she died in a fire—we certainly have the resources to falsify dental records or DNA evidence."

I fight back a smile when I realize Alice and I are realigning in sync already. We used to finish each other's thoughts and sentences; our complimentary gifts made it flow almost seamlessly.

"Yes. We need to get everyone off our backs. If Hunter thinks she's dead, he'll move on. We need to find Hannah, though."

"I've seen her, Edward! I think I'm really close. It might help if Isabella has something personal of Hannah's."

"She has some pictures. I'll ask her if you can take a look." I clutch Alice's hand tighter. "You've seen Hannah?"

"Yes, but I don't know where she is yet. She's safe. That's a plus." She gazes up at me, her usually light-hearted face taut with tension. "Hannah's beautiful, Edward. For that matter, so is Bel—Isabella. Do you have any idea why she doesn't want to be called Bella anymore?"

"No. I imagine it might be related to the loss of or exile from everyone she's ever cared about. James may have called her that as well. Can you blame her?"

"No. When you put it that way, it's perfectly understandable."

"When should we find the body?" I smirk.

"I had a vision of a remote cabin in Colorado that's been abandoned. We'll burn it down and leave the evidence inside. None of us have ties to Colorado, so it shouldn't throw any undue suspicion. Maybe you can report to Jenks that you're hot on her trail—then in a day or two we can plant the evidence."

"That works." I offer up my first genuine smile for Alice. At least one obstacle will be out of our way, and then we can concentrate on saving Isabella's life and rescuing Hannah.

Alice dances forward to hug me, and I find my arms instinctively wrapping around her to return the affection. In a way this scares me, because my emotions have been turned off for so long. In a space of weeks, between Isabella and Alice, the apathetic numbness has been slowly replaced by raw feelings, lighting up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree. Realizing the danger, I set Alice away from me, clearing my throat unnecessarily.

"Carlisle is coming to speak to you in about two minutes, so you may as well wait out here." Alice winks at me before taking off into the woods. Although I've had a hard time reading her since I returned, I catch a fragment of her thoughts.

_Need some time alone to hunt and let Jasper cool off. Why can't he understand how much Edward means to me?_

Her thoughts head off into the memory of an argument she had with Jasper recently.

_Jasper glares her way, his jaw tight._

"_Jas . . . please understand." She places a hand on his arm._

"_No. I'll never understand you and him. It's almost like—"_

"_You know it's not like that. _You're_ my mate, not Edward. How can you be jealous of—"_

"_Jealous! I'm not jealous." Jasper pulls away from her touch with a hiss. "He's an arrogant son of a bitch, always digging around in everyone's mind and exploiting the contents. Go. Just go help him and his mate."_

Still waters run deep. I'm not surprised by the level of anger Jasper shows toward me, but I am surprised he would treat Alice that way. I'm thinking before long, Jasper and I will have words and exchange blows. I smirk to myself; I'm down with that.

"Edward." Carlisle emerges from the shadows.

"Isabella is sleeping."

"I know, Son. I came to talk with you." His eyes are wary, and I sense he's about to drop a bomb on me.

"Cut to the chase." I glare at him, unwilling to play games or dance around subjects the way he sometimes likes to.

"All right. You need to hunt." He nods his head my way. "Your eyes are dark, and you've developed shadows beneath them."

Sighing, I fight to maintain eye contact with Carlisle; I abhor showing weakness in front of my sire. "Yes, I know. Maybe you or Esme could watch over Isabella for an hour or two while I feed?"

"About that." Carlisle's face hardens. "You _can't_ feed on humans near here. You can leave Isabella with us while you go to Seattle if you'd like."

The mere thought of leaving Isabella while I travel to Seattle, locate an appropriately sleazy candidate for feeding, actually feeding, and then returning back to Forks sends a shooting pain through my chest. The pain arcs, burying itself deep and white hot inside me.

"I can't be that far from her."

"What do you propose then?"

"I'll be careful, keep it clean."

"You can't break the treaty." Carlisle shakes his head, his jaw set. There aren't many things he will put his foot down about, but this is one of them. "I won't allow that."

"Yes, I'm well aware of your stance on human blood drinking," I snap, glaring at him. We stand at nearly the same height, my eyes barely an inch above his, but he holds his own. "Blood bank?"

"No. The Quileutes have accused me of stealing blood from the hospital—they watch us closely. I can't risk it. You have to make a choice, Edward."

"What choice are you leaving me? I can't be far from her, and I can't risk her being seen in public, so I can't bring her to my apartment."

"There's always lions and tigers and bears . . ." He smirks at his own attempt at humor, but I'm far from amused.

"Oh, no. No." I shake my head, walking around in a small circle muttering to myself while I rub the back of my neck. Hostility wells up inside me, threatening to explode. "You can't force me to drink that . . . that slop!"

"No, I can't force you, and I'm not trying to. You have a choice—you can leave Isabella with us for several hours, or you can hunt animals nearby. Surely you trust us with her?"

"I trust you and Esme. I won't leave her alone with Alice because of Jasper. I definitely _don't_ trust him, although if he tried to bite her, it would put him in his place, wouldn't it?" My lips form an acerbic smile.

"Edward." Carlisle sounds disappointed, but he doesn't argue the point. "Esme and I would be more than happy to stay with Isabella."

"I can't be away from her without being in pain. The farther away I go, the more I need her. It affects her, too. I don't know what would happen if I went too far."

"Again, I've laid out your choices for you. Just let me know what you choose, Son."

Without waiting for an answer, he heads back toward the main house, leaving me to ruminate on my dilemma.

It's not that much of a dilemma. I can't—won't—leave Isabella vulnerable, be it from my family, emotionally, or physically. If the treaty is broken, the Quileutes might find out about her, and nothing good could come of that.

I snap my teeth together, hating the thought of burying them in the thick, coarse neck of an animal for the first time in twenty years.

**~*RK*~**

The morning dawns gray, cold, and windy. A deluge of rain begins to fall, beating on the roof, and harsh wind buffets the tiny cottage. The shutters bang against the window frames, and a forlorn howling sound rushes through the trees.

I make a tray for Isabella once I realize she's awake, and I follow the sound of her heartbeat to the garden room. Approaching silently, I observe her for a moment.

She stands in the middle of the transparent room, looking up at the domed glass. Rain batters against the smooth curves of the ceiling and beads on the side wall, rolling down in gentle rivulets, creating random patterns. She appears to be deep inside herself, and I don't want to disturb that, but I can't seem to walk away, either. There's some kind of gravitational force that draws me to her. Fighting against it, I retreat, realizing I might be intruding on a very personal moment.

"Don't go." Isabella's soft plea startles me.

"How did you know I was here?" I enter the room, placing the tray of food on a small table by the door.

"I can feel you." She doesn't turn my way, just keeps watching the patterns of rain slam and trickle over the glass.

Coming up behind her, I slide my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me. My lips explore the delicate skin in the crook of her neck with soft nibbles, and she tilts her head to the side, welcoming me. Her hands caress my arms, hugging them closer to her body.

"You felt me?" My lips hover over her skin, and she shivers slightly.

"Yes. I feel you all the time. You're a part of me now." She's so matter-of-fact about something so life-altering.

Suddenly, I'm unable to speak. She feels me the same way I feel her, recognizes we've become two halves of the same whole, and our fates are now entwined. Isabella is so accepting of our connection, and a feeling of pride wells inside me. She's remarkable, perfection, made just for me.

"The weather is full of amazing contradictions. It's so destructive..." she points at the ceiling where rain continues to pelt the glass then over to a copse of trees whose leaves are being shredded by the whipping wind "...and yet so beautiful at the same time." She gestures to the side walls were the rain creates slowly moving patterns as it rolls gently off the arch.

"Yes, it is." I tighten my arms around her, reveling in the feel of her warmth.

Isabella turns in my arms so she can look up at me. "You are the same. You have the potential to destroy, to harm, to rip and tear. To kill, to drain humans dry. And you are also so beautiful and kind. You protect me, take care of me." Her fingers explore my face with the lightest of warm little barely-there touches. There's something off in her eyes, though.

Capturing one of her hands, I bring it to my lips and press a kiss into her palm. "What is it, sweet one? What's bothering you?"

She looks down between us. "I owe you everything, but I nearly killed you. I . . . hurt you."

"Isabella, is this about guilt?" I tip her face up, waiting for her soulful brown eyes to meet mine before continuing. "You didn't hurt me maliciously. You were defending yourself. I was there to track you down and bring you back for that farce of a trial."

"But you could have died—"

"You are extraordinary and accepting and forgiving. And I didn't die. Frankly, it's you I worry about." My words end in a strangled whisper.

"You know, it never bothered me that much before—knowing I was going to die—but I didn't want to leave Hannah without a mother, and now . . . I don't want to leave you. I never believed in love at first sight or soul mates, but there was something about you . . . I tried to fight it, but it persisted, drawing me to you."

I snort. "Well,_ I_ never believed in any of that, either. I've been such a lone creature, and in a matter of days, you split my emotions wide open—turned everything I did and did not believe on its head. I never even stopped to question it, Isabella, because you make me feel so _alive_ for the first time in over a hundred years."

"What would you question? Being with me?" A flash of ill-concealed fear dilates her pupils.

"No, never." I lean in to kiss her soft lips, stealing away her panting breath, and I rest my hand over her rapidly beating heart. "You could never be in question. I love you, and I . . . need you. What I question is the depth of the connection between us. _Why_ it's physically painful to be away from you. How I'm supposed to protect you and rescue Hannah if I can't even leave your side."

"So not all mated vampires have this kind of connection?"

"No, apparently not. According to Carlisle, mated pairs will often know when their counterpart is in grave danger or has died, but not what we've been experiencing. Vampires don't feel pain, but when I think of you dying or I'm too far from you, it hurts."

"I feel something, too. The farther away you get from me, the less balanced I feel. There's this . . . void inside me, and sometimes I fear it will swallow me whole." Her breathing hitches, and her fingers seek purchase on my shirt, pulling us closer together.

"No. I won't let anything hurt you."

Sliding my hands under her hair to cradle her neck, I rest my forehead against hers. For a while, we stand together this way, swaying lightly. I feel so complete with her. I'll never be able to let her go, and I'll never survive it if she dies.

When we pull apart, she examines me intently.

"Edward, you need to hunt, don't you?"

"Yes. I was going to talk to you about that. How can you tell?" The corner of my mouth twitches as I fight back a smile.

"Your eyes are almost black, and I'm pretty sure vampires don't get dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep." She smiles.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Not really, but it is to me."

"I do need to hunt this evening. Would it be all right if Carlisle and Esme stay with you?"

"Yes. I really like Esme. Carlisle is nice, too, of course." Her eyes still hold a touch of fear. "Just keep . . . _him_ away. I don't like him, Edward, and I don't trust him."

I don't have to ask her who '_he'_ is—I'm well aware she's referring to Jasper. I pull her closer, stroking her hair lightly.

"He's not allowed near you. They're all aware of that." I kiss her hair. "Nobody will ever harm you again."

She doesn't respond with words; instead, she goes up on tip-toe and flings her arms around my neck and peppers kisses over my face and neck. When her lips meet mine, it's like sparking flint, and our mouths meld together. With great difficulty, I push her away.

"You need to eat your breakfast. If this goes any further, we'll be spending the day in bed." Speaking the words provokes a visual, and I growl softly.

"Is that so?" She leans up to lick my jaw. "That would be a bad thing? To spend the day in bed . . . together?" she whispers in my ear.

"Isabella, please." I grasp her wrists in my hands, pulling her arms from around my neck and pinning them behind her until our chests are pressed together.

"You want me, don't you?" she asks playfully. Huskily.

"Desperately. But not yet."

"No?"

"I need to hunt . . . before." When she continues to look up at me curiously, I continue. "I've gone too long without feeding, and sex is rather . . . primal for vampires. If I make love to you when I'm this thirsty, I might bite you, and we both know that would be a costly mistake."

"You're right. But soon? I can't wait to be with you."

Her words cause my cock to harden and twitch. If I wasn't aware of how dangerous it would be, I'd toss her over my shoulder and carry her off to the bedroom right now.

"There's something else we need to discuss. I spoke with Alice while you were sleeping, and we came up with a plan. This is about you, so it needs to be your choice."

We sit on the wicker loveseat together, and while she eats, I tell her about our plan to fake her death. I assure her we're going to do everything we can to locate Hannah as well. Tears fill her eyes when she hears about Alice's visions of her daughter, and she agrees to let us borrow some of Hannah's things.

We discuss the pros and cons of faking her death before finding her daughter, but I explain that Alice thinks James may have hired other bounty hunters in an attempt to hurry things along.

Isabella chews on a piece of melon, looking thoughtful. After swallowing, she nods her head. "Yes, I think your plan's the way to go."

"Are you _sure_? You won't be able to contact anyone to let them know you're alive—you do realize that?"

"You mean Angela, don't you?"

"I mean _everyone,_ but yes, it occurred to me you might want to contact Angela. You can't."

"Okay. I'll do whatever I have to. Hannah has to come first."

**~*RK*~**

As evening falls and it's time for Isabella to go to sleep, Carlisle and Esme arrive. I asked them to come while she was still up because I don't want her to awaken in the middle of the night and become frightened.

Satisfied she'll be okay, I kiss her tenderly. "I'll be in bed next to you soon. I love you."

"I love you, too," she answers shyly, blushing profusely as she glances over at my parents.

_She's cute as a button, Edward,_ Esme enthuses.

Carlisle smiles with a mixture of pride and approval.

I saunter away from the cottage at a human pace because I have no idea how far from her I can get before the pain becomes unbearable.

"We're hunting on the other side of the river." I glance up to see Alice perched in a nearby tree. She leaps to the ground soundlessly, and rushes over to me, placing a hand on my chest. "Edward, don't be mad . . ."

"Why would I—"

_Edward, don't be mad, _Jasper mimics sarcastically, jumping down from the same tree and leaning against the trunk with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

His casual stance doesn't fool me one iota. Empaths can manipulate the emotions of others, but they also tend to project their own—often a function beyond their control. Jasper's derision for me has sharp edges. If I gave a fuck, my feelings might be hurt. Good thing I don't.

"Fuck you, Jasper." I smirk at him, basking in satisfaction when his anger spikes and his jaw ticks.

Alice turns her dark head to glance at Jasper, her hand still firmly planted on my chest. "C'mon, boys."

"Why the fuck did you bring him along, Ali?"

_I thought you'd feel better if you knew where he was, and I was hoping you two might mend some fences._

I laugh rudely, shaking my head. "Whatever. Let's get this over with."

The three of us run through the woods and bound over the river. So far, the pain in my chest is a dull throb.

Alice says there's a large group of deer across the next ravine. Listening, I hear seven heartbeats, the soft twitch of ears, and the crunch of hooves on partially frozen snow. As we draw closer, their pungent, gamey scent assaults my nose—not in a good way.

A few seconds later, the first of them senses us. Seven bodies stiffen just before scattering and bolting off in different directions.

Jasper snarls, taking off to the right, and I hear him take down one of them—by the sound of the thump and strong-beating heart, a buck.

Alice's nostrils flair, her eyes darkening. "Will you be all right? Is it okay for me to hunt?"

I nod, and she takes off running, pouncing on a medium sized deer after eighteen seconds. Now, it's my turn.

I pursue a large buck through the brush, purposely allowing him to stay ahead. There's nothing appetizing about the blood until his adrenaline output doubles. I taste his fear on my tongue, and suddenly my mouth is flooding with venom.

Streaking over the final fifty feet between us, I pounce on the deer quickly, sinking my teeth into his neck. His rapid heartbeat pumps his lifeblood into my mouth at a furious rate, and I swallow convulsively. When the torrent slows, I start taking long pulls in an attempt to finish the buck quickly. My venom already did the job of paralyzing him, and his struggles have eased, but I'm determined to get the most out of this poor excuse for a meal.

Despite the fact I haven't fed in a few weeks, the taste is substandard and watered down at best. There's a bitter tang underlying the anemic flavor which I try not to dwell on, lest I heave up what I've consumed before my body has a chance to utilize it.

Animals don't think in the same way humans do, but as the buck is dying, visuals of him herding a group of deer and protecting his offspring assault me. There is a moment of what seems to be regret as he breathes his last, a vivid vision of a doe nudging at fawns lingering even after his heart stops beating.

Dropping the carcass, I fall to my knees, grinding my palms into my eyes as if that will eradicate the scene behind them. Anger ignites inside me like a hot poker, and I grit my teeth. I wish Carlisle was here right now. I'd grab him and bid him to tell me how fucking _humane_ it was to steal away the life of this buck, leaving his mate to try and protect their fawns on her own. And yet when I kill depraved excuses for humans that _nobody_ will miss—criminals that would rape, plunder, pillage, and kill just as soon as look at you—he feels it's wrong?

More than ever, I'm secure that my method of selective feeding is the most humane yet natural way for a vampire to exist.

"Edward?" Alice drops to the ground beside me, her hand on my shoulder. "What is it?"

Before I can answer, Jasper enters the clearing, and I glance up to find him smirking.

"Surely it wasn't _that_ bad, Edward." He swipes the back of his hand across his mouth and then licks his lips. "Mm-mm . . . tasty."

I'm on my feet in half a second, curling my lip, but I root myself to the ground. Alice rises with me, her hand on my chest once more. The jealousy pouring off Jasper makes it worth remaining still and not pummeling him. Instead, I decide to take the passive-aggressive route.

Looking down at Alice, I say, "Your mate likes to push boundaries. One day he's going to antagonize someone who bites back, _hard_."

"Alice." Jasper simply says her name, but behind the word is a warning. He's pissed that her hand rests on _my_ chest, that she stands beside me and not him right now.

Alice glances up at me then over at him, undecided. Her mind is closed to me, but I can read her body language and feel the conflict rolling off her.

I bring a hand to cup her cheek. "Go, Alice. I'll be fine."

_Get your filthy swine hands off my Alice!_ Jasper's thoughts crash in on me along with a jolt of hatred, and he takes one step forward, obviously struggling not to attack.

"I'll see you later?" Alice smiles up at me then heads over to Jasper at a nearly human pace, and the anger with which he looks down upon her causes me to growl.

Yes, I think Jasper and I will get into it _soon_.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Who wants Edward to kick Jasper's ass? *raises hand* Jasper is just all kinds of mean in this fic. So . . . after hearing Edward's experiences with the animal kingdom and his reasoning for feeding as he does, how many of you still hanker for animal drinking Edward? He's not changing, peeps. Be as accepting as Bella now.**

**RK is up for readalong at Indieficpimp! Not sure how long the poll is up, but if you'd like to vote, go here (remove all * from the link): h*t*t*p*:*/svy*.*mk/guf8Ty  
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**Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!**

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	11. Chapter 11 You Raise Me Up

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I know many of you are anxious for the lemon, but you must be patient. Thank you to everyone who recs, reviews, and lurks this story. You guys are awesome!  
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**Love to my prereders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, and to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom. These ladies rock my world. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

**~ You Raise Me Up ~**

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><p><strong><em>When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary<br>When troubles come and my heart burdened be  
>Then I am still and wait here in the silence<br>Until you come and sit awhile with me _**

_**~Josh Groban**_

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><p>When I return to the cottage, I'm angry. Pissed off at Jasper but also incensed about the buck. I'm not fully sated—one buck doesn't equal the sustenance of a human's blood—but I couldn't bear to repeat the performance. Not tonight, and not with Jasper's watchful eye on me.<p>

"How was she while I was gone?" I ask brusquely as I enter the living room.

Carlisle sits on the couch alone, and I assume Esme is doing the motherly thing and watching over Isabella.

"She's been fine, Son. It took a while for her to fall asleep. Once she did, she didn't wake at all while you were gone, and her sleep has been fairly peaceful." Carlisle's smile is cautious. I'm pretty sure he can sense my roiling emotions bubbling away, barely trapped beneath the surface. "How did it go?"

"You really _don't _want to get into this with me," I snarl, nearly baring my teeth at him. I contain myself only out of respect and because he can't fully comprehend my situation.

Esme enters the room, her eyes full of concern. I can still read her easily.

_Oh, I hope they're not going to wake Isabella. I wonder what went wrong? Did Jasper misbehave and upset my boy? By God, I'll box his ears if he did!_

Esme's thoughts are so sweet, amusing, and disarming that they nearly quench my ire. She truly is my mother in this half-life.

"Edward." She nods to me but doesn't ask about hunting. _I know it's hard for him to follow Carlisle's rules. So much conflict in the family right now._

I cross the room to stand before her, placing my hands on her upper arms and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, Mother. For everything."

Esme's eyes widen, glistening with venom that will never be expelled in the form of tears.

I've never called her _mother_ before, even though I consider her mine at least as much as I consider Carlisle a father. Carlisle created me, taught me to hunt, to retain some humanity, to control the thirsting. He also slapped me down when he felt I did wrong, and until the big blow out twenty years ago, I looked to him for absolution, and he forgave all my sins. The relationship was complicated, but as such he earned the position of _father._

Esme always had my back, was a staunch supporter no matter how far I fell, was a friend and confidant—often willing to argue with her own mate in my defense. A part of me is afraid to draw too close to her—she reminds me too much of my own dead mother, of my human years. In a way, I fear she will be taken from me, although I know the thought is an irrational one. Perhaps the real issue was my dislike of emotional attachments, at least until Isabella cracked my façade wide open.

"You'll always be my son, no matter what." She palms my cheek tenderly.

"And I will always treasure you." I lift one of her hands to my lips and kiss it.

"Edward, did something go wrong?" Carlisle breaks in, his eyes tight with concern.

"Carlisle, this is not the time." Esme glares at him. "Let's leave our son to his mate. He needs _her_ much more than he needs us asking him questions right now."

"Very well. See you later, Son. I didn't mean to pry."

I nod my acknowledgment but don't speak.

Carlisle takes Esme's hand and leads her to the front door. She turns her head and winks at me.

My nerve endings feel raw, and I'm relieved my parents are gone. The last thing I want is to get into an argument with Carlisle over the semantics of vampire feeding habits. _I'm _the mind reader; I have to suffer with the thoughts of my victims—even those of the animal kingdom. No matter how you slice it, animals and children are the most innocent beings. What possible sin could a deer ever have committed?

My grief over the slaughtering of the buck surprises me, but it's been over twenty years since I fed from an innocent. And I do consider the deer to be an innocent. It's easier for Carlisle and the others to justify it because they don't have to hear and see inside the minds of their food.

Entering the bedroom, I gaze at Isabella, and she's a balm to my troubled soul. The comforter is pushed up to her chin, and I smirk, knowing Esme must have bundled her up. She never slept more than an hour without kicking off all or at least part of the covers.

Usually, I remain on top of the comforter because of my cool temperature, but tonight I need to be closer to her. I don flannel sleep pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt to temper my chill a bit then slide beneath the covers with her. Isabella senses my presence immediately, and her body seeks mine out, allowing me to enfold her in my arms. Her hand comes to rest over the place where my heart used to beat, and a sweet smile spreads across her lips as she snuggles against me. I kiss her forehead and tuck her head under my chin, combing my fingers through her hair slowly.

My anger dissipates, and I gradually gain control over my emotions as her presence calms me. I can almost forget the kill I made tonight, although I won't soon forget the offensive taste or the embarrassment of being dropped to my knees in front of Jasper. Nor will I be able to eradicate the memories of the dying buck as he thought of his family.

For the next few hours, I bask in her warmth and the comfort of her touch. If she has any dreams, they're not disturbing, and the only sound in the room is her light snoring. The other day when I mentioned her snores, she vehemently denied it.

"_I do not snore!" she snapped, affronted._

"_Oh, but you do, my love." I tapped my index finger on her nose, which she wrinkled up, growling at me. "I think it's utterly adorable."_

"_There's nothing adorable about sawing wood, Edward!"_

"_There is when it's you that's doing it. Don't feel embarrassed."_

_She smiled then, her annoyance disappearing. "You always make me feel accepted. If you're not careful, you're going to create a monster." Going up on tiptoe, she kissed my cheek._

I smile again, thinking of it. She has an infinite capacity to make me happy—no easy feat when dealing with a broody, disillusioned vampire.

Just as the sun is rising in the sky, pale light washing over the windows and peeking around the edges, her heartbeat and respiration changes as she begins to surface. Before her eyes open, she sighs softly, running her fingers over my chest and arms, and one of her legs rubs up against mine.

"You're back." Her smile could replace the sun.

"I am. Do you feel rested? It's early yet . . . you can go back to sleep for a while."

"I missed you." She ignores my offer of more slumber.

"I missed you, too. You'll never understand how much."

I suspect something in my voice causes her eyes to open, and she lifts her head to look at me.

"Oh!" She draws a startled breath, looking back and forth between my eyes. "Your irises look . . . strange."

"Do they?" I hadn't thought to look at my eyes after hunting, my only concern getting back to her. Understanding dawns. "They aren't dark anymore, are they?"

"No, they're . . . a burnt sienna. There's almost a glow about them . . . like the smoldering embers of a fire."

I close my eyes. I forgot the animal blood would mess with their color so quickly. Since I avoided feeding for so long, the red of my irises had been nearly obliterated by the blackness of hunger, which must have allowed my recent meal to taint my eyes much sooner than I expected.

"Edward?" Her warm fingers explore my face, the tip of one stroking over my closed lids. "Is something wrong? Why are your eyes such a strange hue?"

Without opening my eyes, I cup her face in my hands, my lips seeking hers. I just need to feel her. Isabella responds to my kiss, the softness of her mouth welcoming me home. I love that she doesn't push me, almost as if she can sense the inner conflict I'm dealing with.

Our kisses are sweet, chaste, and comforting, not heated and sexual. Isabella wraps one hand around the back of my neck, the other still resting on my chest to rub soothing circles. Slowly, her lips make their way over my jaw to my ear, and she whispers, "You can trust me. I'm here for you."

Why those words cause a rush of heat to settle in my groin, I have no idea, but I roll us, covering her body with mine. I ghost my nose back and forth along her jaw and down the side of her neck, eliciting a shiver from her. Breathing in her now-familiar scent, I kiss and lick over the pulse in her neck, taking my time. My hips shift against hers, allowing her to feel how hard I am. Her soft gasp causes me to realize what I'm doing—I don't want to make this about trying to eradicate my pain, to use her as a band-aid for my troubled soul. I roll us again until she's straddling my hips, and my hands wrap around her waist.

"Edward, open your eyes," she requests, threading her fingers in my hair. "Look at me."

Opening my eyes, I gaze up at her. She's wearing a white tank top with purple plaid sleep pants, and her hair is a messy brown halo around her delicate face. I can't help but smile. "You're beautiful." I squeeze her waist gently.

"So are you." She smiles shyly. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"My eyes are this color because I . . . drank from a deer." I rub gently over her sharp hip bones with my thumbs, but it's me that I'm soothing.

"A deer! But why?"

"Because of Carlisle's treaty with the Quileutes. I would have to go to Seattle to feed from a human."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because I couldn't be that far from you, and I wanted to be nearby in case you needed me."

"Was it awful?" she asks, placing a hand over her mouth.

"It was fine."

"No, it wasn't. Don't shelter me, Edward." She slaps at my chest lightly—already she's adjusted to the hardness of my body and no longer sprains her hand on me.

"You're a fierce little kitten, aren't you?" I tease. "Must I lay everything bare before you? Isn't a vampire entitled to keep anything to himself?"

"No. I want it all." Isabella looks purposefully into my eyes as she grinds herself on my lap.

"Are we still talking about my secrets?" My hands tighten on her hips, holding her still. Despite the clothing between us, I can feel her intense warmth over my cock, which twitches in response.

"Yes . . . and no," she answers on a soft moan.

She leans forward, and my hands leave her hips to cup her face. Soft, warm lips brush lightly across mine. When the tip of her tongue traces along my lip, my tongue reaches back in answer, pushing between her hot lips. The warmth of her mouth consumes me, and I want more, so much more.

When I smooth back her hair, she pulls away and looks down at me, the beginnings of disappointment in her eyes. "That's your cue playtime's over, isn't it?"

Again, extremely perceptive.

"Yes." I tug her back down for another kiss. "For now."

"But why? You've fed . . ."

"Isabella, I won't use you to drown out my demons. Our connection means so much more to me than that." I sit up against the headboard with her still straddling me, my fingers cradling the back of her head. My lips kiss their way along the edge of her tank until I can lick at her pulse, the steady beat reassuring. Closing my eyes, I nuzzle my nose against her clavicle. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, but not with what I'm struggling with at this moment."

Her fingers trace the shell of my ear before she anchors both hands around the back of my neck. Drawing closer, until our noses are nearly touching, she whispers, "Whatever you need."

We spend the next half hour making out like teenagers with my hands up her skimpy little tank top as I revel in the fact that she's braless and lets me fondle her freely.

**~*RK*~**

After lunch, Isabella sits at the small table along the side wall of the garden room—obviously her favorite place in the cottage—and challenges me to a game of chess. I haven't enjoyed chess in decades because I can always read the other player. It was amusing to read the mind of my opponent the first few times, but that grows old quickly. I readily agree to play her, and she kicks my ass.

"What the—" I sputter.

"What? You thought because you're some brilliant vampire you'd automatically beat me?" A slow, mocking smile spreads across her face.

"Yes?" We both laugh at the expense of my big ego. "So, where'd you learn to play like that?"

"Grandpa Swan was a Grand Master. He taught me how to play when I was eight." Isabella's smile fades, her eyes clouding over. "Everyone that knew me then is dead—or at least as good as dead. Edward . . . I miss the easy times. Things are so complicated now, so dire. If I ever get Hannah back, she'll never share good times like that with her grandfather."

"I know. I'm sorry." I squeeze her hand over the chessboard.

"I'm her only family, and if I die . . ."

"Shh . . . no. Carlisle's doing everything he can to find the cure, but if anything ever did happen to you . . ." the words lower to a whisper as they choke me ". . . Hannah would be taken care of. My family will never abandon her. _I_ will never abandon her."

And I realize in the space of a few words that I will be forced to go on without Isabella for at least as long as her daughter lives. I'm not sure how I would push through the pain, but I couldn't leave that little girl to grow up without knowing someone who loved her mother.

"Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me." Tears slide down her cheeks, and she hops up, coming around the table to plop in my lap with her arms around my neck. She buries her head in my shirt, tightening her hold. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" she whispers.

"I wonder that about you daily. I'm the lucky one, Isabella." My fingers caress her cheek, wiping her tears away, and I rub them over my lips so I can taste them on my tongue.

There's a break in the clouds, and although it's not sunny, the sky is fairly clear. The temperature is a bit higher than it's been the past few days, which gives me an idea.

"Would you like to go for a run?"

"A run . . . ?" She lifts her head, looking at me as if I've gone mad.

"Your feet will never have to touch the ground."

"What will you do—give me a piggy back ride?" She giggles.

"Exactly."

"What?" Her eyes widen. "For real?"

"For real. Let's get your coat."

Once Isabella is bundled up, we leave through the back door, and I crouch down so she can secure herself to my back. I start slow because I don't want to spook her, but soon enough, I'm flying through the trees as she squeals with delight.

"Oh, my God! How do you . . . go so fast . . . without hitting a . . . tree!"

When I leap over the river, I can hear her heart stutter and pound, but she whoops with exhilaration. Before long, she's begging me to go faster, her pealing laughter trailing behind us like a ribbon of happiness.

And in this moment, I'm happier than I've ever been. My mate is on my back, she's forgotten her troubles, if only for a little while, and so have I.

We reach the peak of a cliff that's on our side of the treaty line. Isabella asks me to stop so she can look out over the rolling waves as they crash, sending up foamy white spray along the rocks below.

"We can't stay here long. See the cliff down a ways? That's Quileute land. If one of _them_ sees you, it could cause huge problems for my family."

With one last longing look at the chaotic waves, she climbs on my back once again. "Let's go. We don't need any extra issues to deal with."

On the way down, she tightens her arms around my neck. Showing off, I go even faster, the seventeen-year-old part of me enjoying her gasps and screams.

"Do you want me to slow down?"

"Hell no!" she yells. "This is better than any amusement park I've ever been to!"

"Hold on, then."

Speeding up, I zoom down the slope that curves to the wooded trails leading back to the cottage. The sight I'm met with at the tree line brings me up short, and I skid, sending a spray of snow high into the air.

"Woo hoo! That was awesome! Can we do it again?"

"Shit," I mutter, and she seems to sense my abrupt change in attitude, her body stiffening against my back.

"Well, well . . . what have we here? Could it be . . . Senator Hunter's bail jumping wife? Riding on the back of the bounty hunter hired to bring her in?"

Isabella sucks in a breath, her arms and legs clinging to me tightly. "Who the hell is he?" she murmurs in my ear.

"Demetri." My voice is icy, and I say his name like it's a bad word.

"Hello, Edward."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, here we go, kiddies. Things are about to get really interesting.**

**RK is up for readalong at Indieficpimp! They started a new poll, so even if you already voted, you can vote again. Poll is up until the 25th, so if you'd like to vote, go here (remove all * from the link): h*t*t*p*:*/*/*bit*.*ly/wT7iGI **

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**Thank you all for reading. See you next Tuesday!**

**To readers of _Broken Windows_, I didn't realize the stir my recent chapter was going to cause. I don't think I've ever received so many PMs about a chapter before—certainly not so many irate or heartbroken ones. There will be no teaser for the next chapter, but I do ask that you reserve judgment before jumping ship.**

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	12. Chapter 12 Point, Counterpoint

**A/N: The late chapter is compliments of fanfail. Thank you to everyone who recs, reviews, and lurks this story. You guys are awesome!**

**Love to my prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, and to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom. These ladies rock my world. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

**~Point, Counterpoint~**

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><p><em><strong>Strategy without tactics is the slowest route to victory.<strong>_

_**Tactics without strategy is the noise before defeat.**_

**Sun Tzu**

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><p>Demetri leans against a tree with his arms crossed over his broad chest. We're about the same height, but he's solid where I'm leanly muscled. I still have the advantages of speed and mind reading over him, but facing off with Isabella here could pose a problem.<p>

Crouching down, I let her off my back and tell her to stand behind me.

Demetri raises his eyebrows. _Protective. Interesting. _"So, having a little fun with the murderess before you bring her in? Would you care to share with an old friend?" He leers, tilting his head in an attempt to get a look at Isabella, who cowers against my back.

"Watch your filthy tongue, Demetri." I growl, baring my teeth at him.

"Whoa! Feeling a little proprietary?" _There's more than meets the eye going on here. Aro's scouts were right—something's up._

"You have no idea." I answer him through gritted teeth.

Hearing Aro's name in his thoughts is startling and sends a jolt of fear through me—I was sure this had to do with James, and Demetri _did_ recognize Isabella when he arrived. If the Volturi are involved, we could all be as good as dead.

Isabella's heart is pounding, and her breaths are shallow. She doesn't need this, and I'm angry he caught us unaware. Where the fuck is Alice? Or the rest of them? I can't properly attend to her with Demetri close by. He's seen enough already, and I know if he senses weakness in me, I'm dead and so is Isabella.

"Let's start with _her_." He nods his head toward Isabella. "You were hired to bring her in for trial. Why are you out here playing in the snow instead?" He smirks again. _Getting some before you deliver her? It's not your style to play—you're more of the love 'em and leave 'em type. Drink and run._

"Demetri, why don't we start with what the fuck _you're_ doing here? Who sent you?"

He snorts loudly, relaxing his arms down and taking a few casual steps in my direction. "Well, now, you see that's really interesting, Masen. Senator Hunter's people wanted to hire me to find his wife, but I heard through the grapevine that you were already on the case. I turned down the job, knowing it was just redundant to have two of us. After all, where's the fun in that? But _then_ I was summoned to Italy, and imagine my surprise when Senator Hunter's name came up."

"And?" I prompt impatiently.

"Tsk. So demanding. You're really in no position to give orders, Masen. In any case, hand over the lass, and I won't tell Aro I found you two at play." He winks lasciviously.

My growl deepens. "Over my dead body."

"Too late! In case you didn't get the memo—we _are _technically dead." He laughs uproariously at his own joke, which I don't even find marginally amusing. "Despite the tension between us, my life as a bounty hunter would be mighty boring without you, Edward. I'd hate for Aro to toss you on the fire with the rest of the miscreants. Make no mistake—there will be purple smoke curling into the sky above Volterra soon."

"Wh-What's he talking about?" Isabella whimpers behind me.

"Stay calm, Isabella. It'll be all right." I try to soothe her. I'm dying to wrap my arms around her. I want to throw myself down over her and protect her.

When I glance back at Demetri, his head is tilted to the side, his eyes narrowed. "Oh, my God. You've fallen for her, haven't you? The unflappable Edward Masen has an Achilles' heel after all."

Before I can respond, there's a chorus of low growls to the right and the left of us. A quick pan of the area indicates two wolves to each side and two more heading through the woods behind Demetri. _Fuck._ Not only do those dogs know Demetri and I are here, but they've seen Isabella. Surely one of them will recognize her—if not now, when the pack is together later on.

"Edward!" Isabella cries out, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her cheek between my shoulder blades.

"Shh . . . it's okay. Nobody is going to hurt you."

_Why is she hugging onto that leach?_

_What the fuck is going on here?_

_Bella? Shit, that's Bella Swan!_

_Who?_

_Charlie's daughter!_

Thoughts volley back and forth between the assembled wolves.

_Edward, I think we're in a bit of trouble here._ Demetri's eyes are wide. As arrogant as he is, even he knows we don't stand a chance against six wolves.

"I need to speak with your Alpha!" I call out with a strength and confidence I don't feel.

The situation is dire. They could easily kill both Demetri and me, and then take Isabella—if she doesn't get in the way of their sharp teeth and claws, that is. Shifters are volatile creatures prone to mistakes.

One wolf from each side heads off into the woods, emerging in their human forms a moment later. We're still fairly well surrounded, and I pray that Demetri won't try anything stupid.

"Demetri, remain still. Don't give them a reason." Our eyes meet, and he nods imperceptibly.

Two young men, who appear to be in their mid-twenties, come together in front of me. They're both nearly naked, wearing only loose fitting cotton shorts that hang low on their hips, and their chests and arms are pumped up as if they've taken massive quantities of steroids. While I'm far from a prude, I'm affronted by the blatant flaunting of their virility. One of them seems fairly calm and stoic; the other, however, is fidgeting, and his eyes are hostile.

"I am Sam Uley, the Alpha of this tribe." Thankfully, it's the calm one.

"They've got Bella! God damn it, Sam!" The one next to him spouts off.

"Quiet, Jake!" Sam shoots him a deadly glare.

There's a sudden intake of breath from Isabella. "Jake?" she whispers, peeking around my shoulder.

"Bells? Are you okay? Has that bloodsucker harmed you?" Jake takes one step forward, his dark eyes glittering with hatred as they roam over me contemptuously.

"You insolent little pup!" I snarl at him. "I've been protecting her."

At the same time, Isabella's confused voice rings out. "Edward would never hurt me, Jacob! You've got this all wrong." Her breaths are short and panting, and I fear she's about to pass out.

"Isabella, remain calm. Please." I speak gently to her before shooting a dark look Jacob's way. "_Don't_ upset her."

"Me?" he asks incredulously. _Stupid fucking bloodsucker!_

"Jacob." Sam's voice is soft, but it's all that's needed. Jake falls back behind him with his head bowed; however, his body vibrates with coiled up energy, and I know the danger is great.

"What are you doing with the human girl?" Sam addresses me.

"That's none of your concern. She's safe and well cared for. That's all you need to know."

"Not good enough. Send the girl over here to us."

"Absolutely not."

"No!" Isabella cries out, panicked. "I want to stay with Edward!"

"Shit, he's got her hypnotized!" Jake yells out angrily.

"No! It's not true, Jake!" Isabella's grip on my shirt tightens, and I can feel how violently her body trembles.

"Isabella, shh. Please don't upset yourself."

I feel trapped. If I try to keep her away from them, they might try to take her by force, and she might be hurt. On the other hand, I'm loath to turn her over to the Quileutes. It will be that much harder to get her back if she's on tribal land. Not to mention her leukemia, which might be thrown into overdrive if mishandled.

My dilemma is ended by a rustling in the tree tops. Six vampires drop to the ground in various positions, all between me and the wolves.

To my left are Emmett and Rosalie, in defensive crouches before the wolves to that side. Emmett turns his head for a moment to look at me. "Eddie! Welcome home, bro. You never could do anything subtly, could you?" Just as quickly, he whips his head back around and snarls at the wolf he's guarding. "You're on our turf now, bitch."

If the situation wasn't so dire, I'd laugh. To those who didn't know him, Emmett came across as a buffoon, but you'd be hard pressed to find a bigger heart, and he's fiercely protective of those he loves.

Rosalie is the ice queen all others were patterned after, but she'd die to protect the family and anyone in it—even me.

To my right are Alice and Jasper, also in defensive crouches.

_I'm sorry we took so long, Edward. The future is murky around the wolves. I kept seeing blood in the snow—so much blood. _Alice was clearly upset.

_Edward, despite our differences, I've got your back, _Jasper assured.

Carlisle and Esme had landed behind Jacob and Sam, but in front of Demetri and the wolves at his back. Esme remains where she is, while Carlisle strides quickly to stand in front of Sam Uley.

"What's going on here?" Carlisle's authoritative tone rings out as he addresses the Alpha. His voice lacks its usual softness, and although I can't see his eyes, I'm sure they're fierce and dark.

Four sets of ears flatten against gargantuan heads and thin whines come from two of them. The others fidget, their paws shifting in the snow.

_The coven leader._

_There're eight leeches now. We're outnumbered._

_Shut the fuck up, Quil! Remember, our bite is deadly to those bloodsuckers._

_So what, Paul? How many of us will they take out before they die? It's not instantaneous, you know._

"Carlisle." Sam nods. "I take it you know these lee—vampires."

"Edward is my son. I'm familiar with Demetri, as well, although he's _not _a part of my family."

"Your son? He's never been mentioned to us."

"Edward has been . . . away from us for the past two decades. He just recently returned home."

"Human blood drinkers. That's a treaty violation," Sam states flatly.

The wolves crouch slightly, and I know they're ready for a fight. Their minds are a blur of jeers and insults, a snarl of thoughts I'm no longer able to easily follow.

"No, Sam. It's only a violation if a human is _bitten_ or killed within the borders set forth in the treaty."

"Your son's eyes don't match yours. Where's he hunting?"

"Actually, if you take a look at his eyes, you'll see they're in the process of changing. And I'm sure Demetri will agree not to feed in the area in exchange for his life."

"Without a doubt," Demetri interjects.

"Can you explain the presence of the girl here?"

"I'm not obligated to, Sam. Need I remind you that your pack is on _our_ land right now, which is a direct violation of the treaty? But please . . . feel free to ask her yourself. Nobody's holding her against her will." Carlisle sweeps his arms toward Isabella.

Sam's jaw tightens, but he nods his head at his second in command.

"Bells?" Jacob calls softly. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

His cajoling tone and the use of the uncomfortably familiar nickname causes me to growl low in my throat. My fingers twitch with the desire to tear him to shreds, and my body is taut, muscles bunching with tension.

Isabella steps around in front of me and cups my cheek in her gloved hand. "Edward," she whispers, waiting for my eyes to meet hers. "It's okay. He's the son of my father's best friend. Jake would never hurt me. I don't think any of them would."

I grasp her wrist gently. "They may not mean to, but shifters are volatile creatures."

A collective growl rises into the air from the wolves, and Sam quiets them with a sharp command in what I assume is the Quileute tongue.

"Jake, I can't explain it all to you right now. I'd love to talk with you later. Maybe something can be set up." Isabella glances between me and Carlisle for permission.

"Certainly something can be arranged." Carlisle nods. "Preferably on our land, Sam. I'm treating Isabella for a serious illness, and she needs to be monitored around the clock."

Jacob's eyes fill with concern for my mate. I'm glad to see he cares for her, but I'm left to wonder how much. _Shit, are you jealous, Masen?_ I never experienced such a wide range of feelings until I met Isabella. Used to being in control of my emotions and most situations, it's disturbing at a deep level.

"I'd like to talk with you, Bells. Sam?" Jacob defers to his Alpha.

"Carlisle and I will come to an agreement."

Isabella sags against me rather suddenly, her breathing erratic. Catching her, I cradle her in my arms and press my lips to her forehead. "She has a fever, Carlisle."

"Bring her home, Edward. I'll be there shortly."

_What the hell is wrong with her? _Jacob looks frantic. _My God, is the leukemia back?_

Interesting. So Jacob knows about the leukemia, and it was once in remission. We've never really talked about her illness in great detail, but perhaps some discussion would be a good idea.

"Demetri?" I question.

"He'll either be coming back to the house in one piece or . . . he won't. That depends on how smart he is." Carlisle's tone was grim. He doesn't care for Demetri any more than I do. "Emmett, Rosalie, Alice, go back with Edward and Isabella please. The rest of us will stay here and . . . hash things out."

Sam orders the wolves to back off, allowing us passage.

Emmett holds back until the rest of us are several yards into the woods before following behind. None of us speak as we weave between the trees and leap over the river. We pass Isabella's flowers of hope, and the sight of them soothes me slightly. I know it's just nonsense, but they mean so much to her.

Isabella's arms are slung around my neck, her face pressed into my shirt. She hasn't spoken a word the entire way, hasn't moved at all. When we crest a small hill and the cottage comes into view, only then does she animate. Her head lifts from its hiding spot on my chest, and she looks up at me with glassy eyes. "Home." The relief in her eyes and voice is palpable, and my heart breaks for the thousandth time.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella. This is entirely my fault—I never should have taken you out there."

"Shh . . . it's okay." She puts a gloved finger over my lips. "I had so much fun with you . . . before those creatures showed up. I can't believe Jake is one of _them_."

_Fun with Edward?_ Rosalie's surprised thought causes the corner of my lips to twitch.

I'm the first to admit fun hasn't been on the menu for me since I was turned. Even seducing all the lovely young girls that allowed me the chance to drink without killing was simply a way to pass the time while feeding guilt-free. Bounty hunting? Another distraction. Competition with Demetri? Distraction. I've simply been a bored vampire with no real meaning to his existence—until Isabella. I've smiled more in the weeks since I met her than in all the years since Carlisle sired me.

"You're far too easy on me, sweet one. I should have known better."

Conversation stops as we reach the cottage. My siblings take up positions around the perimeter to keep watch, and I carry Isabella straight to the bedroom, unbundling her in the walk-in closet. Under the winter-wear, her shirt is damp with sweat. Moving quickly, I undress her and pull one of my shirts over her head. I have this need to mark her as mine, to have my scent all over her, and this is the only way at the moment. The shirt hits mid-thigh, and I slide a pair of her shorts up her legs—I don't want her half-naked in front of the others.

Lifting Isabella in my arms, I carry her to the bed and tuck her under the covers. Lying down on top of the comforter, I stroke her sweat dampened hair and fevered skin. Her eyes remain closed, but she smiles faintly when I kiss her temple.

"I love you, Isabella. I promise we're going to resolve everything," I whisper into her hair.

"Love you, Edward."

She slips into a fitful slumber, and I'm helpless under the need to remain with her. I know my siblings want to talk—that we'll _need_ to talk later when Carlisle comes back with Demetri—but I'm glued to her side until the fever breaks. The fevers scare me. I know the leukemia is burning through her weakened body, that even Carlisle's new concoction can't hold off the inevitable forever.

She dreams of Hannah again, and it's like a dagger twisting inside me.

"Hannah . . . oh, baby. Mommy loves you so much, sweet girl. Don't cry." Tears wet her face, and I kiss them away, soothing her until she settles down.

_Oh, my God! Edward! I think I'm much closer to finding Hannah! _Alice's excited thoughts slam into me, and I share her vision.

_It begins in front of a small but tidy yellow house with a white picket fence. Toys are scattered around the well maintained yard. A big shaggy dog bounds up to a small child and licks her face from chin to forehead._

"_No, no, Bowser! No licky Nana!" She throws her arms up and falls on her butt in the grass, giggling madly as the dog sees the opportunity for more kisses._

"_Bowser!" A male voice calls out in a commanding tone. "Leave it!"_

_The dog immediately responds by sitting down in the grass, looking guilty._

"_Are you all right, dolly?" the man coos. He appears to be in his mid-fifties and has a kind face. His affection for the little girl seems to be genuine._

"_Yes. Time to eat, Unco Harry?"_

"_Yeah, sweetie. Time to eat." The man leans down with his arms open, and she reaches up to him willingly._

_She's breathtaking—a pert little nose, fair skin, bright brown eyes, and mahogany hair with bouncy little curls that come down to her shoulders. This is definitely Hannah; her resemblance to Isabella is astounding and undeniable._

_The man carries her into the house where a woman is setting the table. She's about the same age as 'Unco Harry' and also looks at Hannah with affection._

"_Did you have fun playing outside, sweetie?"_

"_Yeah! Bowser washed Nana's face!" Hannah giggles with her hand over her mouth._

"_Oh, no!" The woman laughs. "I made your favorite for dinner. Let's go wash your hands first—and maybe your face, too."_

_Harry grabs the woman around the waist and hugs her, nibbling on her neck._

"_Harry Donovan! You shouldn't sneak up on an old gal like that. My ticker."_

"_You look as good as the day I first met you, Margie. You were the most beautiful girl in all of Seattle."_

"_Oh, you!"_

The vision cuts off there, but it might be enough to find Hannah. At the least, I'll be able to assure Isabella that her little girl is safe and happy. The couple seems to have nothing but affection for Hannah and for each other. I breathe my first real sigh of relief since this whole roller-coaster ride started.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: So, the wolves have arrived, along with the rest of the Cullen clan! Are you guys excited? There's lots of interesting stuff coming up now that most of the players are on the board. And we got a glimpse of little Hannah. Awww... Talk to me, peeps!**

**RK is up for readalong at Indieficpimp! Poll is up until the 25th, so if you'd like to vote, go here (remove all * from the link): h*t*t*p*:*/*/*bit*.*ly/wT7iGI **

**Thank you all for reading. Next chapter will post on _Tuesday April 3rd_.**

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	13. Chapter 13 She

**A/N: This chapter is coming out to you guys early to thank you for voting RK to be the March Readalong story at IndieFicPimp! The Readalong is this Saturday, March 31st at 9pm EST. Love you guys! Many thanks to the ladies at IndieFicPimp for doing so much for authors around the fandom.**

**Love to my prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, and to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom. These ladies rock my world. Mwah!**

**Due to fanfail's sketchy system, you may not have received the alert for the last chapter (or this one, LOL) so please check before you dive in.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

**~She~**

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><p><em><strong>She<br>May be the reason I survive  
>The why and wherefore I'm alive<br>The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years  
>Me<br>I'll take her laughter and her tears  
>And make them all my souvenirs<br>For where she goes I've got to be  
>The meaning of my life is<br>She **_

_**~Elvis Costello**_

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><p>Isabella has been asleep for the past several hours. Her fever broke about three hours ago, and her sleep has been peaceful since. When Alice and Carlisle show up by the front door of the cottage, I open the door to greet them.<p>

"Please, come in." This is my way of making concessions and letting them know I appreciate what the family did for me earlier.

We sit in the living room—the two of them on the sofa and me perched on the arm of the chair. Carlisle seems stiff and formal, which is an indication he has something difficult or unpleasant to discuss.

"What's going on?" I look between the two of them, but their minds are silent—most likely due to a combination of my long absence and their practicing to keep me out.

"A lot, Edward, and we need to deal with it before things get ugly." Carlisle looks down and sighs, clasping his hands between his knees.

"Is it Isabella? Do you have . . . some kind of news of her condition?" I swallow hard. I don't want to hear that there is no cure for my mate, and yet I need to know if that's the case.

"No, nothing like that, Son." Carlisle seems to understand my concern and is quick to assure me. "Naturally, this _all_ has to do with Isabella in one way or another, and I might actually be closer than ever to finding a cure. Once she's awake, I'm going to need you to bring her up to the house. There are a few tests I'd like to do to prove my theory."

"These tests—they aren't invasive?"

"Not at all. I simply need some blood."

"You've already taken blood samples."

"Living blood—straight from the vein."

Alice has been strangely silent, her natural exuberance and need to interfere absent. Her eyes glaze over for a moment then she shakes her head. A moment later, they glaze over again, and she bites her lip.

"What's going on with Demetri?" I ask, watching Alice closely. I may not be able to read her mind right now, but she's obviously running scenarios through her visions. "And what's with her?" I gesture toward Alice.

"One thing at a time, Edward. Demetri's going to be a problem."

"Then he's as good as dead." My tone is matter of fact.

Carlisle shoots me a disapproving look. "Even if I _would_ go along with that, it's no longer that simple. The Volturi are involved, and if Demetri doesn't report back, they'll send someone else. Our best chance is to get Demetri to cooperate with us."

I hear what Carlisle is saying, but in my mind I'm calculating how I can eliminate Demetri and get word to the Volturi that it was unavoidable. A small gasp from Alice ends my little fantasy.

"Edward, no, that won't work at all. Every scenario I've looked at ends with the Volturi coming here . . . and it's not good for any of us. The only chance we have is to make an ally of Demetri."

"Yeah? And what do your visions show the probability of _that_ is?"

"Not that good." Alice looks glum. "There is _one_ possibility, but I can't see what Demetri will decide."

"And what's that?"

"We tell him about Isabella's blood."

"_No_! That's not going to happen." Standing up, I have the urge to pound the walls, destroy something, but I settle for hissing at Alice.

"Edward, calm yourself," Carlisle commands.

"If we tell Demetri about Isabella, the Volturi will want to get their hands on her. I won't allow it!"

Carlisle stands up, a gesture of dominance. "Edward, you need to hear the whole story before you go off half-cocked. _Sit down_."

I feel like a chastised child, but I know he's right and nod my acquiescence. "I'm sorry. This is very difficult for me."

"I understand. We'll do whatever we can to help—you know that." Carlisle sits down, and I follow suit. "Demetri is already aware that vampires are dying. Senator Hunter isn't as smart as he thinks he is, and the Volturi have gotten wind of his activities. It's only a matter of time before they put the whole picture together."

"Do they know how the vampires are dying?"

"Apparently, Senator Hunter has been taking advantage of nomads and vampires living on the fringes of society—luring them with the promise of riches. There was a mix-up, and two vampires showed up around the same time for their appointment. The lucky one heard the first arrival in the throes of agony. Hunter was cursing a blue streak, screaming about how he needed a crematorium to burn all the failed test subjects.

"The nomad took off, spreading word to a few vampires on his way out of town—warning them to be wary of a deal that sounded too good to be true. He never told them the source, but a few of them saw purplish smoke rising into the air deep in the woods and investigated. They found a smoldering bonfire left to burn itself out, and they were able to identify some vampire body parts. Even the bits that weren't burned crumbled to dust beneath their fingers."

"Jesus. Hunter was taking a huge risk doing these experiments at his home." I shake my head, wondering how he got away with it as long as he did. Then again, nomads tend to travel alone or in very small groups. Vampires appear to be the perfect test subject for James—he just burned the failed attempts. "I guess none of his lab rats ever got away before."

"Precisely. The Volturi are stymied, and they asked Demetri to sniff around before they make a pilgrimage out there. I think they're scared, too, Edward. _We _know what's happening, but they have no idea. Certainly they're not about to put their own existence on the line and would rather send out . . . expendables first." Carlisle's tone is filled with disgust, but it's no secret that the Volturi protect their elite above all other life, and Demetri is no longer part of that elite.

"Perhaps that will work to our advantage, Father."

"It very well could—if we can get Demetri on our team. I think that means telling him about Isabella."

"No way. But wait—why not tell him about Hunter? He has the same anomaly Isabella does."

"That could work." Carlisle nods thoughtfully. "I want us to meet in the lab so I can show all of you what we're dealing with here. You really have to see it firsthand. I already have Isabella's samples, and we can merely say they belong to Senator Hunter."

"Done. And Demetri already knows Isabella is here with me. He saw how protective I am over her, so we'll just have to tell him she's my mate. I'll make sure he keeps quiet."

"I think this will work!" Alice speaks up suddenly.

I nearly forgot she was even in the room, and when I glance at her, there's a sparkle in her eye. "Yes?"

"You have something on Demetri. Use it, and I think he'll cooperate." Alice smiles craftily.

"I was planning on it, dear sister."

**~*RK*~**

Once Carlisle and Alice leave, with my assurance that I'll bring Isabella up to the house once she's awake, I stand in the doorway of the darkened bedroom and close my eyes.

_Tup-tup, tup-tup, tup-tup._

The smooth, even beats of her heart soothe my troubled soul. I listen to her blood whooshing through her veins, blood that could slay me, leaving me a dried up husk that might blow away in a strong wind. Blood that had betrayed her own body and was killing her, little by little.

Lying down next to her with my head propped on my hand, I look down upon her peaceful face. She's on her side, facing me, with her hand tucked under her cheek. Her appearance is one of childlike innocence, and her slumber the peaceful repose of one who trusts their environment and those around them to keep them safe. Gratefulness swells within me, knowing that I helped bring her that peace.

A thick lock of hair trails over her upper arm, hanging over the swell of her breast to touch the sheets. Taking it between my fingers, I smooth it gently and bring it up to my nose. I can still smell the sickness tainting her scent, but there's an underlying hint of wellness, which coaxes a rarely occurring smile to my face. I press my lips against her temple, my fingers still rolling her hair gently between them as if it's a worry stone.

Isabella sighs, one hand reaching out to rest against the side of my neck. Her foot hooks around the back of my leg, rubbing up and down slowly as she rolls toward me. My fingers play with the hem of my shirt, which she still wears, and now it smells of _us_. A soft growl vibrates my esophagus: one of possession, desire, _need_. I need her more than she'll ever know, and the desire to mate is strong within me. Not for sex; rather to cement the growing bond between us. My hand slips under the shirt, gliding slowly up her side. Her skin is silken warmth, but the ridge of each rib rises to meet the pads of my fingers—a reminder that time is ticking, ticking. A war is being waged within her as she fights to get well and the leukemia ravages her blood. Even Carlisle's cocktail won't be able to maintain this slight improvement in her health; too much damage has already been done. Only a miracle can save her now.

Isabella grabs harder at my neck as my fingers continue their path along her skin to cup one perfect handful of soft breast. It molds to my impermeable skin like potter's clay, only the sudden rigid peak of her nipple breaking up the pliable skin. Her foot pulls harder against the back of my knee, her breath quickening as she presses her chest further into my hand. I stroke the pad of my thumb over her nipple, picturing its rosy flush in my mind.

"Edward . . ." Her eyes are still closed, but her fingers seek out my face and brush my jaw as lightly as angel wings. Her lips follow as she raises her head and places them against mine so softly I barely feel them, and yet, at the same time, their heat sears my mouth.

My lips move lightly against hers, and I fight to remain still, lest I tear the clothes from her and crush her to the bed. Our lips press together, and her body shifts, bringing it in contact with mine, my hand now trapped between us.

My cock swells, nestling between her legs as she shifts her hips against mine. And then her gorgeous sable eyes open, looking into mine with such love and trust. A soft sound rises from her throat, and she tilts her head back, exposing her neck. I know she's not doing it to invite me to sink my teeth in, but I have the urge nonetheless. My tongue snakes out to lave at the steady throb in her neck.

"I love you," I whisper against her pulse, feeling it against my lips: _thump, thump, thump._

"I love you, too." Isabella slides her fingers into my hair, gripping tight as her pelvis rocks against mine. "Edward, I want to . . . to make love with you."

"I want that, too, but we need to talk to Carlisle first."

"Why?"

"The need in me to mate with you is becoming increasingly hard to suppress, but we need to know if there are any restrictions." I press a kiss to her ear. "I won't risk your health—as much as I want you."

"Can't you just _call_ Carlisle? Please, Edward?"

"I love how eager you are, sweet one, but Carlisle and Alice were here while you were asleep, and we have to deal with Demetri. He could be a problem." Sitting us up with her head resting against my shoulder, I explain about the Volturi and how sloppy her soon-to-be dead husband has been about covering up all the vampires he's experimented on.

"So the Volturi don't know exactly what's happening then?"

"No. They sent Demetri to scout ahead, and we need to get him on our side—or at least strike some kind of deal. If he doesn't return to the Volturi with news somewhat soon, they will send a group here to investigate, and that . . . would be very bad indeed."

Isabella's fingers tighten on my shirt. "They would hurt you and your family?"

"Without a second thought. I'm more frightened for you, though. Your blood is a threat to them, and they'd be far more ruthless than the senator with you. These bastards have no morals and more power among them than any other species or group in the world."

"I don't want you to be hurt again because of me, Edward. There must be something we can do." She nuzzles her face in my neck, her breath hot and moist on my skin.

"Carlisle is going to give a demonstration of what your blood is capable of when we go over to the house. We're going to tell Demetri the blood belongs to James. This way, we have a chance at gaining his cooperation without giving anything away about you."

"But how will you explain having me here?"

"Demetri already saw how protective I am—it's too late to try and hide the fact that you're my mate. Anyway, I doubt he's going to be all that concerned about you once we dangle what James is up to under his nose."

"Okay. Let me just get dressed, and then we can go." Isabella sits on the edge of the bed and stretches.

Before she gets up, I kneel behind her, moving her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck. "Leave the shirt on."

"Why? It's so big on me." She giggles.

My hands caress her shoulders, and I kiss up the side of her neck, causing her to shiver. "Because it smells like us, and I want everyone to know we belong to each other." I growl softly, leaning in to capture her lips with my own when she cranes her head back toward me. I cup my hands over her breasts, her breaths quickening as I knead them gently.

Reluctantly, I halt my assault on her mouth and body, releasing her to get ready to go to the house. She heads into the bathroom on unsteady legs that remind me of a newborn fawn taking its first steps. I smile, and this time it doesn't feel unnatural.

Once she's dressed, I sit her down in the living room to tell her about Alice's vision of Hannah. This might not be the best time, but I can't keep something that important from her until it's convenient.

"Isabella, before we go, I need to tell you something." I take her petite hand in my own and grip it firmly. "When you were sleeping, Alice had a vision of Hannah."

She looks up at me with her mouth agape. "Is she . . . please say she's okay!" Her fingers grip mine tightly.

"Yes, she's fine. Whoever she's staying with cares about her a great deal, and they're taking very good care of her." I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, leaving my fingers to linger on her cheek. "Hannah's so beautiful, Isabella. She looks just like you."

A sob hiccups out of her, and she throws herself against me and cries into my shirt, her fingers clawing at me for dear life. "Tell me the vision, Edward, please."

I go through the vision twice, emphasizing how happy and cared for Hannah seemed. Unfortunately, Isabella doesn't recognize the names or description of the couple, but I'm confident we'll be able to locate them.

"How long has it been since you've seen Hannah?" I ask gently.

"Over a year. She probably d-doesn't even remember me."

I tighten my hold around her and kiss her hair. "I'm sure that's not true, Isabella. We're going to find her soon and reunite you. I won't rest until you're holding her in your arms."

"Hannah's really okay? She seems happy? Not scared?"

"She seems very comfortable with the couple that's taking care of her. She has a nice yard to play in and a dog. If she has to be away from you, I think she's in the best place she can be."

Slowly her tears dry up, and she seems happier. "You're right, Edward. I'm so glad she's with people like them. Thank you for this. At least now I know there's a chance to get her back."

Isabella asks me to give her a ride to the house on my back. Her eyes are bright with excitement, and who am I to deny my mate? I run fast, and she squeals with delight when I make several revolutions around the house.

I finally let her down on the front porch and brush my thumb over her flushed cheek. "You're so beautiful. I want to spend every day of my existence making you smile and bringing that light into your eyes." I swallow hard, knowing those days may be numbered.

The front door is flung wide open, and Emmett's large frame fills the doorway. "Hey! This must be Izzy-B! Sorry I didn't get to say hello earlier, but—you know, smelly dog business." He waves a hand in front of his nose, and his booming laugh rings out loudly. I'm about to tell him to tone it down when Isabella smiles and turns his way.

"You must be Emmett. It's great to meet you." She smiles and holds her hand out, which Emmett takes with the utmost gentleness, placing a kiss on it.

"The pleasure is all mine, pretty lady. So glad Eddie finally met his match." He backs away from the door, leading her inside. "Come and meet Rosie."

I want to protest, afraid that Rose will scare Isabella. Again, my family is too fast for me: Rosalie steps forward, approaching Isabella carefully. The look in her eyes is almost . . . _tender_, and I'm taken aback. Rose reaches her hand out tentatively, and her gesture is accepted with the same grace my mate always seems to show everyone.

"Hi, Isabella. I'm Rosalie."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Welcome." Rose nods her head almost reverently, shyly averting her eyes.

"Rosalie," I acknowledge, hiding my surprise. Then I whisper so low Isabella can't hear me. "Your reaction to her surprises me."

_She's been through so much, but she's so strong. Especially for a human. Besides, she's missing her child—something no mother should have to endure. And whatever she's done to you, I think I like it._ A slight smirk lifted the corner of Rose's mouth.

"Okay, not sure what's going on here bu-uut . . . Carlisle is waiting downstairs for us." Emmett claps his hands together, glancing nervously between me and Rose.

"We should get downstairs, Isabella. How about if I give you the tour later on?"

"Sounds good."

Rosalie accompanies us, but Emmett hangs back.

I place a hand the small of Isabella's back, guiding her to the door tucked away in the pantry at the back of the kitchen which leads down to Carlisle's state of the art laboratory. He has x-ray and ultrasound machines as well as equipment to store blood and run tests. Isabella gazes around with awe as we descend the stairs. A short hallway leads to the main room where I hear the murmur of voices.

Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and Demetri are clustered around a lab table that has two microscopes. Jasper is nowhere to be seen, which suits me just fine.

"Edward, Isabella." Carlisle nods at us.

Everyone appears fairly relaxed, although I can detect a tightness in Demetri's jaw. He's uncomfortable here, and he should be. If he makes the wrong decision, I'll kill him and worry about the consequences later. Our eyes meet and hold.

_Damn Aro. Even if he does come after them if I don't return to Volterra, that doesn't exactly help _me_._

A predatory smile spreads across my face. "Keep that in the forefront of your mind, Demetri."

Carlisle becomes all business, inviting us to stand behind him as he prepares to give a demonstration.

"Here I have a blood sample from Senator James Hunter. In this Petri dish is vampire venom. I'm going to place a few drops of Senator Hunter's blood in with the venom, and I want you to watch what happens. Isabella, I've prepared a slide as well, so you can look at it under the microscope. The rest of us will be able to easily see what happens in the Petri dish." Carlisle fills a dropper with blood from the tube and puts a drop on the slide before placing it on the microscope, encouraging Isabella to look through the eyepiece. Then he let three drops into the Petri dish.

Isabella gasps at about the same time the action starts in our sample. The blood rolls slowly toward the venom, deep red to silvery-clear. The red cells quickly surround the venom, turning a deeper shade of burgundy, and I can almost hear a sizzling sound as it goes to work. Within thirty seconds the puddle of venom is reduced to a gray powder.

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck? That's impossible!" Demetri paces back and forth, pointing at the lab table. "What kind of trickery is this? That can't be real venom."

"Demetri, I assure you, it's very real. If you want, spit some venom into a new dish, and I'll show you again."

After the second demonstration, Demetri's eyes are haunted and his mind an incoherent miasma of terrified thoughts.

"How many of these . . . anomalies exist? Aro is going to _shit _when he sees this."

"Demetri, perhaps it's best not to involve the Volturi just yet. Isabella is accused of attempted murder, as you already know, and we need to get our hands on Hunter and find out how he discovered the existence of vampires in the first place. You and I both know that Aro isn't always into the . . . subtle solution."

"You have a point, Carlisle. What do you propose?"

Isabella's head lifts from the microscope, her eyes filling with tears. She rushes into my arms and sobs against my shirt, her body shaking. "I'm so sorry," she whispers.

"Shh . . . Isabella. You have nothing to be sorry for." I stroke her hair gently.

I'm worried Demetri will notice her grief and wonder about its source, but he's too distraught over the idea that he might sink his teeth into a human to feed and be struck down.

Alice steps up. "Demetri, we need to fake Isabella's death so the authorities will stop looking for her. I'm sure you've already noticed how close Edward and Isabella are. She's his mate, and we intend to protect her at all costs. We really could use someone to track Senator Hunter so he can be dealt with."

"Why not Edward?" Demetri snaps, his mind filling with thoughts of self-preservation.

"Isabella has leukemia. Edward doesn't want to be away from her."

"So you want me to seek out the senator and do what?"

"Report back to me." I catch Demetri's eye. "The illustrious senator has abused my mate and taken her child from her. _His ass is mine._" A feral snarl escapes me, but my arms remain gentle around Isabella.

"I'll go along with this—for now. I can't hold off on speaking to Aro forever, though. As you can imagine, he's quite perturbed over this."

"Yes, I imagine he is. He'll be much happier with your results if you can tell him you saved the day."

"What do you mean?"

"You can take all the credit for bringing down the senator. We want to stay off the Volturi's radar."

Demetri's greedy nature kicks in as he realizes how grateful Aro will be and how much he'll owe him. "You have a deal. I'll start looking for the senator right away."

I hand Isabella off to Esme's motherly arms so I can escort Demetri outside. "Stay here with my mother, okay? I'll be right back."

She slips willingly into Esme's embrace, and I follow behind Demetri, not speaking until we're outside. Once I'm sure we're out of earshot of Isabella, I grab him and slam him up against the side of the house with my hand around his neck. I growl deeply, leaning in close.

"Demetri, just in case you ever have the thought to betray me or inform Aro about my mate—I advise strongly against it. I'm well aware that you allowed a young woman to live after she watched you feed on her attacker."

"She didn't deserve what that man was doing to her! I thought she was unconscious . . . it was only after feeding that I saw she was awake. Edward, I just couldn't do it. Her eyes . . ."

"I understand completely, and if you ever have the urge to fuck me over, think of that girl. Remember the mercy you spared her and why. Aro would burn you to ash if he found out."

Demetri closes his eyes and relives the night he showed a human girl mercy. He knew as well as I did that Aro would show him _no_ mercy. The rules were the rules, and he'd broken the most important one: never let a human know what we are. "Do you love her, Edward? I've never heard of a vampire mating with a human before." His voice is soft and curious, not mocking.

"Yes, I love her. I've never given a shit about a human before—or their many needs. My entire existence was turned upside down when I found her, and I would do absolutely anything for her."

"Will she be okay? Carlisle said she has leukemia. Are you going to turn her?"

"Carlisle is working on some better drugs to slow the progress of the leukemia. Right now, she's not strong enough to make it through the change, but as soon as she is, I plan to change her."

"Best of luck, Edward. I sincerely hope it all works out for you both. She seems like a lovely girl."

Cocking my head to the side, I probe his thoughts without mercy. I need to know if he plans to double-cross me. All I find within his mind are good wishes for me and Isabella. A part of him is hoping if a playboy like me can find true happiness, then he has a chance as well. Deep down, I think all sentient beings desire to find their one true love.

"Thank you. Let's take a walk in the woods and go over the plan."

Demetri and I streak through the trees and leap the river, ending up back where we first encountered one another yesterday. We discuss our plans, and I tell him what he needs to know. I dig around in his mind some more, but he's actually rooting for me and Isabella; and if that isn't enough, he's scared to death that I'll spill his secret to Aro. Done deal.

When I return to the house, the stench of dog pollutes the area. Falling into a crouch, I search out the source only to find the trail leading in through the front door. "No! Isabella!"

All thought of safety forgotten, I follow the God awful smell right down the stairs and into the lab. What I find leaves me shocked and outraged, my growls filling the large room.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Um... uh oh? Talk to me, peeps! Do you think Demetri will double-cross Edward? Thoughts about Rose's reaction to Isabella? Theories about what Edward found at the house?**

**Thank you all for reading. Next chapter will post on _Tuesday April 10th_.**

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	14. Chapter 14 Origin

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! Whatever you celebrate, hope you enjoyed time with family and friends.**

**Thanks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for all the valuable feedback and encouragement. It means more to me than I can say.**

**Edward licks to my awesomesauce betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, for keeping my stuff readable.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**~Origin~**

**_All difficult things have their origin in that which is easy, and great things in that which is small. ~_ Lao Tzu**

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><p>A snarling growl rips from my chest as I shoot across the room and grab Isabella, pushing her behind me. She lets out a squeal of surprise when she finds herself so suddenly displaced. Several pairs of shocked eyes are directed my way, two of which belong to Quileutes: one being Jacob Black and the other an older man in a wheelchair. The one in the wheelchair has a craggy, weathered face, but the resemblance to Jacob is unmistakable. His eyes meet mine—liquid brown and full of knowledge, maybe even some kind of understanding. Jacob's dark eyes harden when they take me in, and once again, he wants to tear Isabella away from me.<p>

"Never put your hands on Isabella or try to keep us apart. Are we clear?" I punctuate my words with a warning growl.

Isabella's fingers claw at my shirt, and she presses her cheek between my shoulder blades. "Edward." My name comes as a relieved sigh against my back, the warmth of her face and breath branding me right through my shirt.

Jacob glares at me. "Who do you think you are? You don't own her! If I—"

"Enough, Jacob!" The Quileute in the wheelchair stares hard at him. "Whether we like it or not, Isabella is his mate. Nobody has the right to interfere in that."

"_Mate_? Pfft. How is it even possible for one of _them_ to care for a human, let alone be mated to one?"

"Son, you're still young and cocky. You have much to learn about the ways of this world. It's clear to me that those two belong to each other. Maybe when you can tone down your anger, you, too, will be able to see."

I gaze at the older man, most likely Jacob's father, and instinctively sense he's here to help in some way. Jacob, on the other hand, is a volatile young pup, and I want him nowhere near Isabella. My gaze switches to Carlisle. "What the hell is going on, Carlisle? I thought we'd been attacked, but you don't seem perturbed in the least that they're here."

"Relax, Edward. This is Billy Black, one of the Quileute Elders. Sam Uley wouldn't agree to meet on our turf, so I spoke with the elders, and Mr. Black was willing to come."

"Why did you ask them here? Have you forgotten Sam tried to take Isabella from me? What made you think it was okay to invite them without consulting me first?" Anger burns under my skin like acid. I know he's the coven leader, but this is about _my_ mate. _ Mine._

"Edward, it all came about rather suddenly, and I didn't want Demetri to get wind of what's going on—which is why they waited until he left before coming."

I glare back and forth between them, and Jacob's fists clench at his sides when our eyes meet. He still doubts that I'm Isabella's mate _or _that I'm capable of taking care of her.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, young pup. I've lived your years five times over." I glance back to Carlisle. "Please explain what's happening, or I'm taking Isabella and leaving here."

Still feeling safer with her behind me, I reach back, offering her my hand. She takes it in one of hers, the other still clinging tightly to my shirt, her soothing warmth pressed to my back.

"Edward, I have a theory I'd like to prove. I've been missing a piece of the puzzle for a while, but it struck me just yesterday what it might be. After my conversation with Mr. Black, I'm almost positive I'm right."

"Please, Carlisle, call me Billy." The Quileute Elder smiles, nodding his head. His eyes are watchful but not completely unfriendly. He seems to be more open than the Quileutes I've encountered so far, and I'm impressed he recognized Isabella as my mate.

"All right." Carlisle returns the smile. "Billy has some interesting information to add to the mix, and I asked them here to test my theory. This might be rather shocking to you and Isabella both. Perhaps she'd like to sit down?"

"Isabella?" I call to her softly, and she moves to my side, latching her arms around my waist.

"I—I want to stand here with Edward."

"Very well." Carlisle nods, and I can sense his transformation into clinical mode. "I ask that you let me finish before you say anything. This is going to sound a bit wild at first. After the confrontation in the woods yesterday, I got to thinking, and I realized that Isabella's blood acts very much like a supercharged wolf bite. Naturally, I've never seen what happens at a molecular level when a wolf bites a vampire, but the result is the same: eventual death.

"There's a reason vampires aren't attracted to the blood of the shape-shifters. Their saliva is toxic to us, and their blood would likely work even faster. I believe we'll find the key to Isabella's anomaly in Quileute blood. Jacob is going to allow me to draw a sample from him to prove my theory."

Everyone is silent, just staring at Carlisle. Nobody states the obvious, so I do. "Carlisle, that's a lovely theory. The problem? Isabella is not Quileute, nor is she a shape-shifter."

"No, she's not a shifter. Perhaps Billy can take over now." Carlisle nods to the elder.

Billy Black gazes up at me, his eyes serious but not unfriendly. "Is that okay with you, Edward? Isabella?"

"It's fine with me." I turn to look at Isabella.

She smiles faintly. "Please tell us, Uncle Billy. Especially if it can somehow help us figure out how to fix me."

"Uncle?" I question.

"Uncle Billy was my dad's best friend."

"I see. By all means, please tell us what we need to know." My mind is suddenly working in a new direction, and if I'm right, I hope Isabella can handle what she's about to hear. I glance over at Carlisle, and his gaze is fixed on her.

Alice and Esme stand together behind Carlisle. I know Alice is uncomfortable because her visions don't work around shape-shifters, and she's not used to being in the dark.

Rosalie paces like a caged lion on the far side of the room, her eyes shifting continually between Isabella and the Quileutes. _Don't worry, Edward—I've got your back. If they even look at Isabella cross-eyed, I'll be on their asses in a second. Jasper and Emmett are guarding the perimeter of the house just in case other dogs decide to show their ugly mugs._

I nod slightly, so she knows I heard and appreciate the backup. Although, if one of them tries to get between me and my mate, it will be the very last thing they ever do.

"Isabella, I just want to say that I'm so sorry about Charlie and Renee. Your dad was my best friend, and I miss him every day. And your mom—she was a terrific lady." Tears shine in his eyes.

"Thank you. I—I really miss them, too."

"Well, you might not like me so much after you hear what I've got to say, my dear. I never expected to have this conversation with you. Forgive an old man for protecting his best friend, huh?"

"Wh-What is it, Uncle Billy?" Her voice shakes, and I pull her in closer to my side.

"Isabella, whatever it is, we'll deal with this together. You're not alone anymore." I kiss the top of her head when she leans it against my chest.

_How fucking sweet._ Jacob's sarcastic thought breaks in, but I choose to take the high road—for now.

"Please go on, Uncle Billy."

"Well, sweetie, you are half Quileute."

"What? Charlie's not my father?" Isabella's voice rises to a near-shriek, and her body shudders in my arms.

"Whoa, hold up. Yes, Charlie was most definitely your dad—"

"In all the ways that count, right?" Her voice is bitter.

"No, in _every_ way that counts. He was your biological father . . . but Renee was not your biological mother."

"What? You expect me to believe that? It's much easier to lie about who the father is, but I think my mom would remember whether she carried me in her womb or not, don't you?"

"Easy, sweetie. Renee knew all about it. You see, your mom was infertile, but they wanted to have you more than anything. I watched them struggle, watched their marriage deteriorate as your mom fell into a deep depression and Charlie worked overtime so he didn't have to see it happen. Most nights when he came home, Renee would already be in bed sleeping. Eventually, Charlie fell apart one day when were out fishing.

"I hated seeing them suffer that way, and Sue Clearwater stepped forward and offered to be a surrogate. Renee was much more comfortable with it because it was someone she knew personally. It only took two tries, and Sue was pregnant. You were the miracle baby, the one everyone on the Res looked forward to. You repaired your parents' marriage, Isabella."

"Oh . . ." Isabella slumps against me, and I support her weight.

"Are you all right? Do you need to sit down?"

"N-no. I'll be okay, Edward—just stay with me, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I whisper into her hair.

Everyone in the room looks surprised, especially Alice. She can't see the future around the wolves, so it's no big shock to me that she didn't see this coming. Esme hugs Alice, rubbing her hand up and down her arm in a gesture of comfort.

Rose moves closer to us, concern in her hard eyes. _Is she really all right, Edward? Do you want me to kick Jacob's ass?_

I try to suppress a smirk. She's just hankering for some combat.

"So, Uncle Billy, my p-parents decided this together? My dad didn't—"

"No, dear! There was nothing illicit about it. Your mom and dad wanted you so badly. Sue went through artificial insemination, and as I said, it took on the second try."

"Why didn't they tell me?"

"I can't answer that for sure, sweetie. Sue was agreeable either way. Charlie told me they simply saw no reason to tell you because as far as they were concerned you were their child. And they loved you so very much."

"And didn't they think to change their mind when I was diagnosed with leukemia?" Isabella's voice rises, and my thoughts mirror her remark.

Billy Black nods his head. "They did, yes. Sue's family was checked out. The only possible link to leukemia was on Charlie's side of the family, but the information was spotty at best—far enough back it couldn't be confirmed. Believe me, Isabella, your mom and dad loved you more than anything. They'd have turned their own world upside down if they knew it would help you."

I sense only truth in Billy Black's thoughts. There's no subterfuge or hidden agenda; in fact, there were many late night discussions over the decision which repeatedly drew the same conclusions.

"It's true, sweet one. Nobody deceived you then, and nobody's trying to deceive you now." I tighten my hold around her.

Once she has my assurance, Isabella pulls away from me and sinks to her knees in front of Billy, laying her head on his lap. "I'm sorry, Uncle Billy. I didn't mean to challenge you. It's just . . . I've been lied to, deceived, my child has been taken away . . ." Her words end on a sob.

Billy strokes her hair calmly, although his eyes widen at the news of a child, and his thoughts run wild. His feelings toward Isabella are fatherly, kind, and protective. As much as I distrust the wolves, I can't find fault in his thoughts at all.

Jacob crouches beside his father's wheelchair, but he knows better than to touch her. "A child?" he whispers.

"Her _husband,_" I spit the word out with a great deal of distaste, "took Hannah away from her just over a year ago. "

_Bells has a child! Is she alive? _Jacob's jaw tightens as he thinks of painful things he can do to James Hunter.

"Oh, we're on the same page about that, Jacob," I assure him. "And, yes, Hannah is fine. We're going to find her and bring her home."

Billy continues to stroke Isabella's hair, whispering words in his native tongue, and it seems to calm her. His eyes train on me, though, and he considers me carefully. _There is no doubt in my mind he'll take care of our Isabella. They may be our natural enemies, but the girl is family, and I vowed to Charlie I would watch over her if anything ever happened to him. If that means dealing with them, then so be it._

I crouch on the other side of Isabella, careful not to get too close to Jacob. Placing a hand on her back, I rub gently. My eyes meet Billy's, and I nod to him—a gesture of acceptance. His answering nod and half-smile aren't missed by anyone, including Jacob.

_So that's how it is. I suppose I better get used to the leech then._

I would love to backhand Jacob across the room, but I rein in my ire. He's young and impulsive, but I can see he tends to defer to his father who's a very wise man. They have been a part of Isabella's life since she was born; I wouldn't dream of interfering in that as long as they respect my place by her side. Besides, the wolves might prove to be valuable allies at some point.

When I look up again, Carlisle is the only one of my family still in the room. _I need blood from Isabella and Jacob as soon as she's up for it._

"Will you be all right for a moment if I go talk with Carlisle?" I ask softly.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Billy smiles up at me. "Thank you, Edward . . . for trusting me with Isabella. I have only the best of intentions."

"I know that, Billy Black. If I thought otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting here with your hands on my mate."

Carlisle smiles when I appear before him, putting an arm around my shoulders. He speaks so only I can hear. "It's good to see you making some concessions, Son. I take it you're satisfied with what you find in Billy's mind?"

"Yes. He thinks of her like a daughter and promised her father he'd look out for her. He doesn't like us, but he's willing to deal with us for her sake. Jacob does not feel as kindly toward us, but he will follow his father's lead."

"Good. Do you think she'll be up to giving a blood sample?"

"Yes, but why? You just took some samples the other day."

"Well, I have a theory I want to prove. I believe her blood is more potent when it's fresh—untainted by the oxygen in the air. Over time, I think her blood loses some of its toxicity, although it's still extremely deadly. I want to compare Jacob's blood to Isabella's. I believe we're going to find the same chromosomal fingerprint. Understanding what that chromosome does will help me come up with a cure—at least that's what I'm hoping."

Thirty minutes later, Isabella and Jacob sit side-by-side while Carlisle draws blood samples. The rate at which Isabella's blood consumes venom is similar to Jacob's. Carlisle examines the size and shape of their blood cells on a slide, and he's pleased with his findings.

_This is it, Edward! I need to run some genetic tests, but I should be able to formulate a cure within the next few months._

I glance over at him with some concern, wondering if Isabella will make it that long.

_I know you're worried about the time—and I am, too—but I think she'll make it. This cure will be temporary, and you'll need to change her quickly. Once her blood regenerates, the anomaly will return._

I nod my understanding.

Carlisle explains the blood anomaly to the Blacks, and they agree to keep it under wraps. It can't be hidden from the Alpha, but Sam can keep it from the rest of the pack.

After the testing is done, Billy and Jacob leave with promises to Isabella of keeping in touch. She hugs them both, and I suppress the growl building in my throat with great difficulty. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.

Isabella smiles as I take her hand, pulling her from the chair and into my arms to press her firmly against my body. Something inside me loosens, as it always does when I touch her, and I feel the world come back into balance. Her soft sigh and the way she melts into me indicate she feels the same way. The center of my chest starts to tingle pleasantly.

"Edward, can we go now?" she whispers. "I just want to be alone with you—in our cottage."

My lips curve into a smile against her hair. _Our cottage._ I love that she thinks of it as ours, and I can see the same delight in Carlisle's eyes. "Soon, sweet one, but first we need to discuss something with Carlisle."

"Something else?" she whines like a petulant child who's had her fill.

"We could do this another time if you want, but we have to have this conversation before . . . we can be intimate."

Her head lifts from my chest, and her eyes hold a sudden sparkle of mischief. "Oh! We should definitely stay for this conversation."

Carlisle chuckles, and Isabella's cheeks flush as per usual. I sit down on one of the chairs, pulling her across my lap. She loops an arm around my neck, and rests her head on my shoulder.

"Carlisle, we need your advice. I need to know if there are any restrictions. While I've had . . . relations with other women, I never cared for them, and obviously, none of them were my mate."

"Well, it should be fairly straightforward—mechanically, anyway." Carlisle smirks. "There's no need to be concerned over your strength, since you have that under control. Naturally, you need to watch Isabella's health, but you've been doing that already. You do need to use caution when it comes to the mating instinct—it's very common for vampires to have the urge to mark their mate. While this isn't normally an issue, since Isabella's human, you'll have to suppress the urge to bite and drink.

"Since Isabella's blood consumes venom, I don't think pregnancy will be of concern. I've heard of rare cases of vampires impregnating human females, but in this instance, there's no possibility of a viable pregnancy."

"Anything else we should know?"

"I think that about covers it. Isabella? Do you have any questions?"

"How soon can we make love?" She looks surprised by her own question, and her cheeks turn a deep shade of crimson.

"Whenever you're ready. Your counts look good, and the new drug seems to be supporting your blood more effectively than the Neupogen. Use common sense, and you'll be just fine."

"Thank you, Carlisle—for everything. I know it goes against your nature to allow Quileutes on your turf, and I especially thank you for that." Isabella smiles shyly.

"It's my pleasure. I'm willing to work with anyone who's willing to work with me. I'm hoping this will eventually be a bridge for peace between us. We all have something in common: our concern for you. And now, I'll leave you two to talk." Carlisle smiles, and a second later, he's gone.

And we're alone.

With nothing stopping us.

"Edward, take me home." Her heart beats faster in her chest, and her eyes are bright.

She doesn't have to tell me twice. I scoop her up in my arms, and we're back at the cottage in twenty-six seconds.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: You know what's coming in the next chapter, right? I promise there will be no more interruptions. And what do we all think of the revelations in this chapter? There's still a lot to come because I really don't know how to write a short story.**

**See you next Tuesday, peeps!**

**Many of you have asked about my novel. Thanks so much for taking an interest in my non-Twilight activities! I'm really happy with the way it's going. When I have more information, I'll be sure to let you all know.**

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	15. Chapter 15 Bloom and Fade

**A/N: Hey, everyone! RK was voted the TLS fic of the month for February. Among all the competition, I'm simply floored. Thank you all so much for your support! I have a ton of lurkers on this story *cough* and I thank you for your votes.**

**Listened to _Bloodstream_ by Stateless while writing this chapter. If you haven't listened to this schmexy song... run, don't walk. Gah.  
><strong>

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

**~Bloom and Fade~**

_**Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. **_ ~ Lao Tzu

**_I think I might have inhaled you_**  
><strong><em>I can feel you behind my eyes<em>**  
><strong><em>You've gotten into my bloodstream<em>**  
><strong><em>I can feel you flowing in me<em>**

**_~Excerpt of Bloodstream by Stateless  
><em>**

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><p>Dusk is descending, the sounds of the coming night growing quieter upon my approach. Even the crickets are silenced. They might not have the same instincts as the wildlife of the forest, but they can feel the ground beneath them vibrate with every animal that abandons the area. They know something wicked and deadly is coming, and their built-in sense of self-preservation kicks in.<p>

In front of the door to the cottage, I set Isabella on her feet, holding on to her hips. She places her hands on my chest and looks up at me silently. A wash of bluish light casts everything in shadow around us, and her features look pale and ghostly. The slight breeze gently whips the hair over her shoulder, and her clavicle stands out in pale relief against the darkness of the t-shirt she wears—fabric that now intermingle_s our _scents. I brush my index finger over the prominence, a reminder of how fragile she is.

Closing my eyes, I cup her face between my hands and rest my forehead against hers. "Isabella, are you certain this is what you want? Because I've controlled myself thus far with great difficulty. I meant what I said about worshiping your body for hours. As a human, you'd never be able to withstand . . . what I so desperately want to do to you. And I_ can _control myself—otherwise I'd have thrown you down on my bed long before now—but I need you to fully comprehend that I'm _not_ human."

"I understand, Edward. No human I know could ever match you in loyalty or the way you care for me. There's nothing I want more than to be fully yours. In my heart, I already am, but I need this as much as you do."

Her breath is warm and humid on my face, and a slight shift of my head brings our lips together. Our kisses are chaste and unhurried; I enjoy the feel of her warm softness molding around my cool hardness. My hands span her slim waist, pulling her in closer, and she loops her arms around my neck to thread her fingers in my hair.

Kissing my way to her ear, I whisper, "Hold on to me." Sliding my hands down over her ass, I hike her up by the backs of her thighs, and her legs instinctively wrap around my waist. Our chests press together, and an answering warmth blooms in mine as heated tingles radiate through me. I haven't felt a temperature change inside me in over eighty years. Nothing I've done, no one I've touched, has left me anything but as frozen as the day Carlisle sired me. Isabella has changed everything.

I open the door and walk us inside, using my foot to push it closed. Our lips meet again, the heat of her mouth branding me, and the burn is like nothing I've ever experienced. The growing need in me to consummate our bond reaches a crescendo, and my cock presses almost painfully against the seam of my jeans as I move us into the bedroom. Turning so her back rests against the wall, I allow my hands to roam over her ass, kneading gently.

A whispered "Oh . . ." comes from Isabella, and she tilts her head back, exposing her neck to me. My lips are all over her baby soft skin immediately, pressing softly when they encounter the flutter of her pulse. I snake my tongue out to lick at the skin there, enjoying her unique taste. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and she rolls her pelvis against me.

"Are you ready?" I ask, my lips whispering over the gentle throb.

"God . . . yes."

Placing her down on the floor, I slide the pants down her shapely legs, taking her shoes with them. Isabella willingly lifts her arms, allowing me to strip my shirt off her. She wears no bra underneath, which leaves her in a pair of purple silky panties edged with lace. I take a step back, my eyes feasting on her ethereal beauty. The graceful slopes of her breasts with their rosy peaks entice me, and my tongue tingles with anticipation to take them between my lips and roll them until they're as hard as little rocks. I reach my hands out to caress her hips, slowly moving up past her waist and over her ribs until my thumbs brush over the rapidly engorging little buds. Her mouth hangs open slightly, her eyes dark and wanting as she watches my hands fondle her.

A rise in her respiration.

Dilated pupils.

Adrenaline.

Moist decadence between her legs.

She's ready, and I am so far beyond ready that I'm half-scared of hurting her in my haste.

My instinct is to rip the silky little panties right off her, but I force myself to exhibit self-control and peel them slowly down until they hit the floor. I join them on my knees, stripping off my shirt and gazing up at her. The way she bites her lip makes my cock twitch. "You're killing me with the lip biting, Isabella." I grab her around the waist and draw her closer, my lips nibbling around her belly button. The scent of her arousal is so, so close, and I _want _to taste her again—when her flavor is untainted by bathwater and oils—but there's time for that later. My need is too great right now.

Isabella's fingers dig into my shoulders, her sweet heart making a _thump, thump, thump_ that I know is just for me because I can feel it beating in my chest, too. Digging my fingers into her hips as lightly as I'm capable of right now, I look at her meaningfully. "I need you. I need to . . . bury myself inside you."

She gasps, her heart thundering in her chest now—a stampede of horses running free. I catch her in my arms as her knees go weak, scooping her up. Rising fluidly to my feet, I place her gently on the bed. Only now do I notice that the comforter has been pulled back to reveal deep wine silk sheets covered by white rose petals. _Alice. _The petals flutter around her gently, and she lifts a hand filled with them and laughs with delight as they rain down over her nakedness.

With a soft growl, my jeans are shredded in my haste to be naked beside her, but I manage to crawl slowly onto the bed, covering her body with mine. The heat emanating from Isabella sears every part of me that hovers over her, and I use my elbows as leverage to keep from crushing her with my weight. Even though I have no need of oxygen, I'm breathless along with her. Our eyes meet and hold, and hers tell me how much she wants and needs this, too.

Lowering my lips to hers, I kiss her slowly, allowing the heat to gradually build into an inferno. Our mouths meet over and over until I lick at her swollen lips, which she parts, allowing my tongue to explore the heavenly depths of her mouth and taste her sweetness. I swallow all the soft sounds vibrating up from her throat: every sigh, mewl, or exhalation of my name.

Leaning on one elbow, I explore her body with my other hand, my fingers trailing lightly over her neck to rest over her thrumming heart before squeezing a breast and rolling the nipple the way I know she likes. Whispering my fingers softly over her navel, I dip lower until I can slip one finger inside her folds. Finding her more than ready, I nudge her legs apart until my cock is cradled between them. We stay that way for a short time, and my lips leave hers to pepper sweet kisses over her heart. "My mate . . . I promise to love you and cherish you for eternity," I say against her heart.

"Edward . . . I love you so much. I can't even describe how I feel inside . . ."

I smell her tears and sense how overwhelmed she is by our connection. "Shh . . . I understand, Isabella. I'm right here with you." Lifting my head, I gaze down into her beautiful eyes. "Hold onto me now, sweet one."

She's so wet, but I remember her telling me James hasn't touched her for the past three years, and I know I need to move slowly—for both of us. Isabella slides one arm around my neck, digging her fingers into my hair, her other wrapping around my back. I tease at her clit with the head of my cock until I sense her body starting to relax. Slipping down a little, I press my hips forward slowly, entering her inch by inch. When I'm nearly there she stiffens around me, her muscles clamping down. _Oh, God . . . the heat! _The vampire in me wants to fill her completely, take her as mine right now. I hiss through my teeth, forcing my hips to remain still. "Are you all right?"

"Y-Yes. I'm sorry. I want you, I just—"

I stop her words with my lips, kissing her gently. "Do you want to stop?" My horny inner vampire snarls at me for asking something that might stop him from mating, but Isabella's needs have to come first—always.

"No . . . it's just been so long, and I feel so much." She swallows hard, frustration wrinkling up her forehead. "I just don't know what to _do_ with all this—what's inside me."

"Pour it into me, sweet one. Let go—I won't let you fall. You're safe with me."

Our lips meet, tongues tangling together as her body relaxes around me, and I'm able to enter her completely. A buzz starts in my chest and races through every nerve ending inside me bringing white hot ecstasy that lights me up and causes my head to snap back. As many times as I've had sex, nothing like this has ever happened. I know _why_ things are this way, but that doesn't mean I'm prepared for what being inside her does to me. Her silken heat wrapped around my cock is the most delicious mix of heaven and hell. The way she shivers beneath me, the soft coos she makes when I touch her, melts my insides until I feel _truly _alive for the first time since Carlisle turned me.

"Edward . . . so much," she pants, her fingers tightening in my hair.

Grabbing her other hand in mine, I press it down to the bed beside her head, entwining my fingers with hers. "I feel it, too. It's like you're inside me, part of me." It's no lie—I feel her heart beats in my chest as the warmth continues to flow through me.

Isabella wraps her legs around me, and we move together, each of us completely in sync with the other. Circling my hips, I thrust into her welcoming heat, allowing my instincts and her helpless cries of passion to show me what we need. Placing my lips on the wrist of the hand pinned to the bed, I kiss and lick along her arm and over her shoulder until my lips nuzzle against her ear. "I love you," I whisper, suckling on her earlobe.

"I love you, too."

Tears leak from the corners of her eyes, rolling into her hair. I kiss over each temple, light as a feather, tasting the saltiness on my lips.

"Kiss me?" Her fingers tighten in mine, her breaths erratic.

She's close to her release—I feel it, sense it, smell it—and my thrusts deepen as my lips cover hers, my tongue sweeping into her mouth.

Isabella's back arches beneath me, her cries vibrating my tongue as her walls clench and flutter around me, our pelvises continuing to rock against each other. Her heart slams in her chest and mine, and I feel the orgasm as it overtakes her entire body. It rushes like a tidal wave, infusing every dead cell inside me with life.

The rushing, tingling heat becomes a conflagration inside me as my own release burns through me turning every cell to cinder. Along with this comes the urge to put my mark on Isabella, and before I can stop myself, my teeth pierce the throbbing pulse in her neck and blood streams over my tongue.

"Edward, no!"

I hear her cry out through the haze of my orgasm and the ecstasy of having my teeth in her neck. When her hands slap at my arms, I start to worry that I've hurt her. Swiping my tongue over her skin to close the wound, I raise my head. And then it dawns on me—I just drank from Isabella.

"Edward? Please, are you all right?" Her voice has a hysterical edge to it, and her eyes are scrunched closed.

"Yes. I'm fine," I answer, my voice full of wonder.

Because I am. Perfectly fine.

"Y-You're fine?" She opens her eyes cautiously, peering up at me.

"No pain, no napalm under my skin, no weakness . . ." I smile, cupping her face in the palm of my hand.

Her fists are curled tight against my chest, and her fingers finally loosen and ghost over my face. "But how?"

"Did I hurt you?" I glance down at her neck, but the only evidence left of my bite is a slightly paler, shiny crescent marring her soft skin.

"N-no. I was afraid for you. If anything ever happened to you . . ."

"I'm sorry . . . about the biting. I wasn't in my right mind." I watch a rosy blush rise to her cheeks and smile. "What?"

"Um . . . I really enjoyed it. I was so worried it would hurt you, but it felt so good, Edward—almost as good as . . ." She looks away, the blush deepening.

"It was good for me, too. I can't adequately describe the feelings inside me while we made love. I felt your heart beating in my chest—felt so warm and alive inside." I bring her hand to my lips, kissing the tip of each finger. "This has been the most mind-blowing experience of my existence."

"And how old are you exactly?" There's a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to ask a vampire his age?" I ask with mock affront. "I was born in 1901—do the math." I kiss her nose playfully.

"God, you're old!"

"Actually, I'm quite young for a vampire. Carlisle is over three hundred years old, and some of the members of the Denali Coven in Alaska are just over a thousand."

We both grow quiet, and the realization that I'm still inside her causes my cock to harden again.

"Edward, I think you're . . ."

"Hard again. Yes, that happens—with vampires." My lips curve into a smile, and I stroke her brow, the mischief in my eyes this time. "Do you want to . . . again?"

"Yes."

Rolling us over, I scoot back and lean against the headboard with Isabella straddling my lap. When I look down where we're joined, I growl low in my throat and my hips buck lightly. A few rose petals adhere to the moisture on her skin, and one of them flutters to the bed when I reach out to caress the soft flare of her hips.

Her fingers seek purchase on my shoulders, and I use my hands to guide her up and down my length. She rotates her hips as she takes me inside over and over. Her prominent ribs and hip bones give away how frail she is, but I can tell how lush her body would be if she was in perfect health. Even ravaged with illness, her curves are soft and feminine.

I slide my hands up her sides, caressing her breasts and flicking the pads of my thumbs over their hardened peaks.

"Oh . . ." She rolls her head back.

Encouraging her to move her hands up to the headboard, I wrap my arms around her back. Pulling her closer to me, I take her nipple into my mouth, swirling my tongue slowly.

"Mm-mm, Edward, more," she coos softly. "Please."

I give her what she wants, increasing both the pressure of my tongue and the rhythm of my hips. As we both draw closer to the edge, her heartbeat starts echoing in my chest again, but this time, I don't lose my shit and bite her. She comes first, her chest and neck flushing, and I fall right after.

Rolling us on our sides, I trace the curve of her hip with my index finger. "You're so beautiful and sensual. I'll never have enough of you." I nuzzle my lips in the crook of her neck, and she shivers. I can sense how tired she is, that it wouldn't be wise to push her limits. "Get some rest, Isabella. There's so much more I want to do with you, but you should sleep now."

"I am kind of tired." She tries to stifle a yawn and fails miserably. "I don't want to close my eyes, though." She frowns, her face suddenly sad.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I brush the backs of my knuckles over her cheek.

"I'm afraid this is all a dream—that I'll wake up and you'll be gone."

"You know what's going to happen when you wake up?"

"What?"

"I'll be lying right here next to you. I love you, Isabella. More than anything or anyone. More than my own life." I press my lips to her forehead. "Sleep now."

She curls in a ball against my side, and I pull the covers up over us. I try to tuck them around her so she won't get cold, but she stops me because she wants to be as close to me as possible.

Her eyes drift closed while I stroke her hair, and just as sleep pulls her under, she whispers, "I love you."

In her sleep, Isabella snuggles closer to me, and our legs tangle together. She doesn't seem repelled by icy temperature at all. I wrap my arms around her and tuck her head under my chin, content to watch over her.

I have nothing to do but think while she sleeps because I won't leave her side tonight—not for a moment. Thoughts of me biting her swirl through my mind along with what could have happened. But it didn't—her blood didn't affect me at all. I must have some kind of immunity to it, and I wonder if it will last.

I need to discuss this new development with Carlisle. It would seem this changes nothing, but there's always the chance that if my venom holds some kind of immunity to her blood, I'll be able to change her. It's a long shot, but I'll pursue any possible chance to keep her with me.

And then a sobering thought pushes its way into my mind. _If I'm immune to her blood, her eggs might not be immune to my seed. _Visions of Isabella's womb swollen with a fast growing vampire hybrid send a rush of ice through me. She would never survive that.

Despite my concerns and the growing desire to talk to my father, I hold her to me for the rest of the night.

In the morning, Isabella wakens slowly. During her slumber, she twisted until her cheek was pressed against my chest, the soft puffs of air from her parted lips ghosting over my skin when she breathed in and out. As she surfaces, her eyelids flutter open, and she gazes up at me adoringly.

"You're real."

"Of course I'm real. Good morning."

"I slept so well last night—no bad dreams." She presses a warm kiss over my Adam's apple. "It must be because you were holding me."

"How are you feeling?" I brush the hair back from her forehead and assess her. She's glowing with happiness, and there's no sign of distress.

"Deliciously stretched and sore in all the right places," she whispers, a rosy blush blooming over her delicate skin.

"That's what I wanted to hear."

Isabella rubs her foot along my calf, and looks up at me coyly. "Are vampires into early morning nooky?"

I laugh out loud. "Very much so. We do need to talk with Carlisle as soon as you're up and around, though." She starts licking her way up the side of my neck while wrapping one hand around my enthusiastically hardening cock. With great difficulty, I grasp her wrist to halt her strokes. "Isabella, we can't . . . not until we talk to Carlisle."

"Your father needs to be involved in our sex life?" she quips with a giggle.

"No, but there's an issue. Now I don't want you to worry, but since I was immune to your blood, you might not have protection against pregnancy."

"Oh." Her eyes widen, but they give nothing away about how she's feeling.

"I'm sorry—it was very irresponsible of me not to use protection." My brow scrunches in consternation. I never had unprotected sex before, and just because _Carlisle_ didn't think it would be a problem didn't excuse my stupidity. "If for some reason, you are . . . we'll have Carlisle take care of it right away."

"Take care of . . . are you suggesting aborting our child?" Isabella's voice drips with hurt and sadness as the tears well in her eyes. "The way you say that is as if it's a problem rather than a baby. _Our _baby."

"There's no baby." I palm her burning hot cheek lightly.

"If you were so sure of _that_ we wouldn't be having this conversation, Edward Masen."

_Oh, shit . . . she's using your full name. That can't be a good sign. Fix this, Masen!_

"I –I . . ."

_Way to handle the situation, Masen. Act like a total pussy in front of your mate._

"Shut the fuck up!" I mutter.

_Now you're in for it, buddy._

"What?" Isabella stiffens against me.

"Shit—not you. I didn't mean for you to shut up."

"Well, who then?"

"Me. I'm talking to myself. God, I'm such an ass." I sit up against the headboard and pull her into my arms. She comes willingly, although I wouldn't blame her if she spit in my face. "I'm so sorry. My mind is thinking in clinical terms. You'd never be able to carry our baby to term."

"Why not?" she asks softly, burying her head against my neck.

"Because of your condition. Even under the best of circumstances, a human rarely survives the birth of a hybrid child." Placing my fingers under her chin, I use them to gently lift her face until our eyes meet. "Isabella, I'd love to be able to have a child with you. We must think of your health and of Hannah, though. A pregnancy would likely kill you, and then you'd be leaving Hannah with no mother and me . . ." I can't force the rest of the words out.

"H-Hybrid?"

"Our child would be half human and half vampire. The gestational period is far shorter, and the birth . . . is definitely different from a human one. There isn't much data on this because it hasn't occurred often."

"How many women have lived through the birth?"

She would ask that question. "One rumored survival. None that I know of." I look away. I'm so pissed at myself for putting my mate in potential peril. "I'm sorry."

"Edward, we're in this together. I'm a big girl—I know all about using protection."

"I should have known better. It's not every day a woman has to face being impregnated with a fetus that will—" I stop short of saying _grow rapidly and bite its way out of the womb._

"Will what?"

"Hurt you. I can't let anything ever hurt you. Please tell me you understand." I cradle her head against me and try to block out the vision of a baby we created through love ripping and tearing its way out of her body. A burning pain flares in my chest.

"I need to think. When can we talk to Carlisle?"

"I'll call him now if you'd like."

**~*RK*~**

Isabella is eating her breakfast in the sun room when Carlisle arrives. Placing a kiss on her cheek, I head into the living room to greet him. He can find his way to us easy enough, but I want to speak with him alone first.

Out of respect for our privacy, he waits until I open the front door before coming in. I didn't tell him on the phone what the issue was; I simply asked him to come over.

"What's going on, Son?"

"I bit her." I look away, unable to meet my sire's eyes when I say this. We talked about the danger of me biting her, and still, I lost control.

"She's all right, though? And you?"

"I'm fine."

"You didn't drink then? You were able to stop yourself?"

I stroll over by the window and look out at the dull gray sky, avoiding Carlisle's keen gaze. "Before I realized what was happening, her blood was pouring down my throat. I only stopped because Isabella started to panic. I was . . . so overtaken by the urge to mark her. Even though you warned me, the danger never even crossed my mind." I jam my fingers in my hair and turn back to face him. "_Fuck._ Nothing intelligent was in my head at that moment."

"Any delayed affects?"

"No. It's not me I'm worried about, Carlisle."

"Well, what then?"

"We had unprotected sex. If her blood didn't harm me, then . . ."

"Ah. This was unexpected. I'm sorry, Edward—I shouldn't have told you not to worry about protection." Carlisle shakes his head and looks down at the floor; I know he really takes it hard when he makes an error in judgment.

"No. I take full responsibility for this. I was stupid and horny. When we left the house, I barely made it to the cottage before I was mauling her." I reach my hand out toward Carlisle and then drop it back to my side; I'm still uncomfortable showing him affection. "She's in the sun room."

"Let's go have a chat then." _I'm glad he's starting to come around a little. I want this to end well for them._

I'm most likely able to catch his thought because he's feeling emotional right now. It seems to be difficult even for those most talented at blocking to keep me out when their emotions are high.

Carlisle follows me down the hall, and I stop just short of the entrance to the sun room. I speak with my back to him because I don't want him to see how ashamed I am. "I made another mistake. I spoke of our potential child as a problem to be taken care of."

"I see. Well, let's talk with her."

When we enter the room, Isabella is curled in a ball on the wicker love seat staring out the window. She seems to be locked deep inside herself and startles when she realizes she has company.

"Good morning, Isabella." Carlisle smiles at her and pulls up a chair.

"Hi."

I stand awkwardly beside the love seat, unsure if she wants me next to her for this, but she looks up at me and pats the cushion beside her. Grateful, I sit down and take her hand, brushing my lips over the backs of her knuckles.

"Edward has filled me in on the situation. Do you have some questions you'd like to ask me?"

"How many women have survived a h-hybrid birth?"

"I don't personally know of any. One of the problems is most vampires don't stick around after impregnating a human. Very often, the women have no idea what's happening to them."

"And if the vampire did stick around? What would a woman's chances be then?" Her hand tightens on mine.

Carlisle grimaces, hesitating a moment before speaking. "Only marginally better, I'm afraid. By my calculations, a healthy human female has about a twenty percent chance of survival if everything possible was done to ensure it. Naturally, she would have to be changed as soon as the baby was born."

"And my chances?"

"With your condition, the fact your blood composition would change drastically, the unknown element of you being half Quileute . . . five percent would be a generous estimate. I'm sorry, Isabella."

"So, basically, I'd have a better chance of survival if I closed my eyes and ran out onto a highway during rush hour."

I smell the salty tang of tears in the air and wrap my arms around her.

"May I ask when your last menstrual cycle was?" Carlisle asks.

"Um, I haven't been very regular the past few years. The last one I recall was about three months ago. How soon will we know?"

"Fairly soon. These pregnancies are accelerated. I would recommend testing your blood twice a week. You have to make a decision soon, though. If you become pregnant, time is of the essence."

"I've already decided." Her voice is dull, lifeless.

I'm afraid to hear her decision. The selfish part of me wants her to choose me, but a small part of me that thought I could never father a child is rooting for the baby that might not even be growing in her womb.

"If I am pregnant, I want you to . . . end it. I can't leave two children behind without a mother. Maybe this is selfish, but I want to live. I want you to find a cure so I can be changed." Tears roll down her face, and I pull her closer.

"You're not being selfish . . . you're being realistic. I'll support you whatever you decide, but I think this is the best choice—for all of us."

Carlisle leaves silently. _Call me if you need me, Son. I'm sorry about this._

Isabella shakes with sobs. Lifting her in my arms, I carry her back to our bed and hold her while she weeps.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Go on now, let me have it. I hope you enjoyed the lemony bits, and yes, I had to go _there_. Talk to me, peeps. I know there are a lot of strong feelings out there regarding babies in vamp fics. Yea or Nay and why?**

**See you next Tuesday!**

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	16. Chapter 16 Impetus

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm so sorry I've been a fail at answering reviews this week. I still have to answer ****some (****most) of you. **

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

**~ Impetus **

**_The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. _~ Oliver Wendell Holmes**

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><p>My heart breaks more with Isabella's every sob, hiccup, and sniffle. I didn't handle the whole pregnancy possibility very well, and I'm ashamed of myself. I don't know what to do or say to make things right, so I decide to just console her.<p>

"I'm so sorry, sweet one." My fingers tangle in her silky hair, and my lips rest against her temple. "Please forgive me for being so crass."

"It's okay, Edward. You didn't m-mean to hurt me. I didn't realize how s-serious the situation was."

"You thought it would be a regular pregnancy. And why wouldn't you?" I sigh, straining not to hold her too tight in my frustration. "You deserve normalcy, Isabella, with a man that can give you children and a safe, happy life."

"No." She shakes her head, her hair tickling against my neck. "You were made for me, Edward. We belong together."

"Do we? Or did some strange chemical process tell us it was so?" Right now I'm doubting all of this, wondering how fair it is that Isabella has been drawn into my world at all. "None of this is fair to you."

"See, that's where you're wrong." Her head lifts from its place on my chest, and her sad eyes meet mine. "I've never belonged in this world, Edward. Oh, I tried, Mom and Dad did what they could, but it never seemed to work out."

"Why not?" My voice is gentle, but my thoughts are not. I want to right every injustice she's ever been put through, eradicate anyone or anything that's ever made her feel unwelcome in this life.

She sits up on the bed, swiping the back of her hand across her nose. The way her head tilts down, her hair conceals her face from me. I don't like it. I almost move the soft brown curtain out of the way but restrain myself; she might need the privacy right now. The need to know everything about her, to see her clearly in every way, blazes through me always. But I know I need to back off and give her space.

Her hands tangle together in her lap, and she picks at her nails. The silence stretches on for nearly three minutes. With a deep sigh, she starts to speak. "I was diagnosed with leukemia when I was five. I had chemo, and the kids at school . . . they shied away from me. M-my peach fuzz hair freaked them out, and I was too skinny. I couldn't participate in gym class or sports . . . I had to watch out for bruising, you know? At recess, I'd be off to the side, just watching the kids. Not many of them were mean to me, but it . . . _hurt_ to have them reject me, especially at such a young, impressionable age.

"I became shy and repressed. Even after my hair grew back and I went into remission, I was so afraid to trust . . . trust that my friends wouldn't abandon me if I relapsed. Angela is so special to me because she was my only _true_ friend. When I was twelve, she held my hair back while I puked from the treatment. She cut _her_ hair short when I lost mine."

The salt of her tears wafts over to me, but I force myself to remain still. I can sense that she needs this release. Now I better understand Angela's mother-cub instinct when it comes to Isabella, and I'm forever grateful to the shy, dark-haired woman.

"Angela punched Mike Newton square in the face when he made fun of us. He called us dykes, and asked if he could watch sometime." She giggles a little and sniffles. "When the principal heard what happened, he gave Mike detention. He tried to lecture Ang about not using violence to solve a problem, but he had a hard time keeping the smirk off his face."

"Angela sounds like an awesome friend, Isabella. She's still very protective of you."

"Yeah, she is. I'm lucky to have her . . . well, that I _had_ her. Now she's going to think I'm dead." Her tear-stained face swings my way rather suddenly, and she grips my hands. "I don't know if I can do it, Edward—let Angela think I'm gone."

"We have no other choice—at least right now. Maybe later, after all threats have been neutralized, then you can contact her. No promises, though. It really depends how this all goes down." There's no way I'm going to lie to this beautiful soul and promise something I'm not sure I can deliver. My heart knots in my chest at the thought of what she went through.

"I understand, Edward." Her eyes slip closed, a tremor running through her. "Later on, I went into a full remission, and the doctors were very hopeful. I was still standoffish with new people, but I managed to make a few friends. When I was in college, James showed up. He was so persistent, and I was fooled by his arduous attentions. By that time, I'd been in remission for nearly six years and allowed myself to be pulled along by his exuberance.

"I did tell him about my disease, but he brushed it off, saying he loved me no matter what. Of course, back then I had no idea he already knew all about me, had handpicked me specifically. Guess it was the natural politician in him." Isabella laughs humorlessly.

"And the Quileutes? Where do they fit in?"

"Well, since my dad and Uncle Billy were best friends and I didn't have much social interaction with the kids in town, we spent a lot of time on the Res when I was growing up. Jacob never looked at me differently. Sure, he asked where my hair went or asked me questions about my condition, as kids will do, but he never shied away. Really, all of the Quileutes were supportive, and for a long time, they were like family. Aunt S-Sue . . . who I now know is my birth mother . . . was always there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I felt so close to her, and now I understand why."

"What changed? Why haven't you seen them for such a long time?"

"Jacob hated James on sight and was antagonistic toward him. Going to college left me little time to visit the Res, and with the strain between them, Jacob wasn't welcome at James' home. After b-both my parents were gone . . . it was just too painful for me. So I clung to James and neglected my extended family. At first I called, but even that grew infrequent until it finally stopped. Once James showed his hand, I wanted to avoid them just as much as he wanted me to—I didn't want anyone I cared about getting caught in the crossfire."

"I'm so sorry, Isabella. I would give anything to take that pain away from you."

She moved to straddle my thighs, cupping my face between her palms. "But don't you see, Edward? You do. Being yours helps ease the pain inside me."

"Truly?"

"Truly. You're the sun in my sky. You're my heart, Edward."

Her words warm me. I'm so happy to know there's someone in the world who's been positively impacted by my existence.

"As you are mine, sweet one."

My hands grip her hips, and I nudge my nose against hers. Our lips meet and move against each other slowly. When it becomes intense, Isabella allows her head to fall back, leaving her neck exposed. I take advantage, licking my way over her dainty Adam's apple.

"Knocka, knocka!" Emmett's loud booming voice echoes across the cottage as he bounds through the front door.

"It's just Emmett," I murmur against her lips, and I can feel hers turn up in an answering smile. At least she's not upset.

Emmett appears in the doorway of the bedroom with one hand over his eyes. "Hey, lovebirds! You guys decent?"

"Hello, Emmett." Isabella giggles.

"Izzy-B! How's my girl today?"

"I'm doing okay." She cranes her neck back to get a look at Emmett, who still has his hand over his eyes. "You can look now."

He takes his hand away, and his big goofy grin widens. "I'm just here to deliver this." Emmett tosses a box my way, knowing I'll be able to catch it in mid-air.

"Condoms?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Papa C said you'd be needing 'em. Got you the super party pack!" Emmett wiggles his eyebrows. "At least one of every color and flavor."

"_Flavors_?" Isabella's tone is incredulous, but she doesn't seem to be insulted.

"Different strokes for different folks! Pardon the pun."

"Emmett, really?" I glare at him.

"Sorry, bro."

"No, no, it's okay!" Isabella protests, turning back to face me. "I like Emmett's sense of humor. He's like a breath of fresh air."

"If you're sure."

"I am," she reassures.

"See? Izzy-B adores me already!" Emmett laughs, smiling proudly. "Well, I just wanted to drop off your party-in-a-box and let you know that Rosie and I are headed out to Colorado."

"Colorado? It's time then?" Isabella looks into my eyes sadly, and I know she's thinking of Angela.

"Yup! I get to try my hand at planting evidence and committing arson. Sounds like a Law and Order episode, don't it?"

She smiles indulgently. "Thanks, Emmett. And please tell Rose thank you for me as well."

"Will do, and you're very welcome. Demetri's meeting us there, by the way. A few days after we burn the cabin down, he'll 'find' the evidence and report it to the authorities and the lousy senator. That way, it keeps us completely out of things. Hunter is staying at a villa in Spain, by the way. Yeah, he's real broken up about things." Emmett snorts rudely.

"Good." I nod thoughtfully. "I don't think Demetri will give us a problem—not after he saw the wolves and got a load of what Isabella's blood can do. He understands better than anyone what a shit-storm it will cause if the Volturi find out about all this before we have a solution."

"Oh, man, he's scared to death!" Emmett guffawed. "Whatever happened when you two were alone definitely left him shaky. I don't think he'll be a problem."

"Thank you, Emmett . . . for everything. Rose, too."

"We're family, Eddie! It don't matter how long you've been away—you'll always be my brother." He steps forward and bumps fists with me.

And then he's gone, bounding out of the cottage, excited to be off on a new adventure. That's how Emmett looks at life—as an adventure to be had. He's not jaded like the rest of us; he retains a childlike innocence that can be both refreshing and irritating in equal measure. Today I find it endearing, and I swallow hard around the lump in my throat.

I look up, and Isabella is regarding me with her head tilted to the side.

"What?"

"You're a complex man, Edward Masen."

"Am I? How so?" I try to play casual, but it feels like she can see through me as easily as a pane of glass.

"You claim to be a lone creature, you're certainly bad-ass, but in here . . ." she taps my chest lightly ". . . lives a tender heart. You stand by your principals—and you should—but deep down you love and miss your family."

I grasp her hand, pulling it to my lips to kiss it. My eyes slip closed, and I consider lying to her for a split second, but then I think, _Why? Why lie to my beautiful mate who understands me so completely?_

"You see right through me, sweet one. Sometimes it's disconcerting how on target your instincts are." I open my eyes and pull her in close, our lips nearly touching, my voice lowering to a near-whisper. "I long to know what you'll be like as an immortal—magnificent and gifted, just as you are while human."

Her arms wrap around my neck and my hands snake around to cup her ass, moving her over my growing erection. With a soft moan, she presses her lips to mine, and our mouths move together with growing intensity. All the while, she grinds on my cock, the thin cotton of her shorts and panties a barely adequate barrier.

My hands leave her ass to slip underneath her top, stroking up her sides to caress her prominent ribcage before sliding over to grab two handfuls of delectable breast. For a petite girl, she sure is stacked nicely—not that it would make a bit of difference to me if she wasn't, but I sure do enjoy the heft of them in my palms.

"Edward, I want you." She nips at my lip and pushes her breasts farther into my hands.

I flip our positions, pressing her into the mattress, and I slide her panties and shorts off. My lips move against hers hungrily, and her tongue matches mine stroke for stroke, revealing her own hunger. She grips the sheets in her fists, arching her chest up toward me.

"Please . . . now." She's breathless, and I don't need to be told more than once.

I reach for the box of condoms, never breaking the kiss, and snag a foil square. Tearing it open, I roll it on hastily, the scent of strawberries, latex, and lubricant surrounding us. Isabella wrinkles her nose and giggles.

"Ridiculous. Who ever thought of . . ." our lips meet over and over, my words coming out as more of groan ". . . flavored and scented condoms?"

"Who cares as long as you can be inside me?" she whispers.

_Point taken._

Her legs spread around my hips, and I slip a hand down to cup her sex. My fingers find her slick and ready, and my cock grows harder, the red latex stretching to accommodate me.

And I fill her.

Over and over again, I fill her, feeling her tight, hot warmth wrap around me. The condom is a minor annoyance; I can still feel the heat of her plush walls, feel the gentle flutter of her inner muscles readying themselves for release. She's not going to last long, and I need her just as much as she needs me.

I'm not as gentle as I was last night, my need to lay claim to her raw and primal. She doesn't seem to mind or even notice: her eyes are closed tight, head tilted back, back arched, fingers clutching convulsively at the sheets, legs coming up to wrap around my waist as I continue to pump into her. Sweet little gasping noises push between her lips.

I lose myself in her, forgetting our dire situation, forgetting everything with the exception of our bodies joined together as one. A beautiful blush spreads under the translucent skin of her breasts, neck, and the apples of her cheeks. Her lips are ripe berries, swollen from my kisses. I'm barely able to hold out until her cries of pleasure fill the room, and then I let go.

** **~*RK*~**  
><strong>

"Edward! Isabella!"

Uncharacteristically, Alice rushes through the front door of the cottage without knocking. Thankfully, my romp in bed with Isabella is over, and she's trying to kick my ass at chess again—and doing a fair job at it.

"In the sun room, Alice."

Isabella's fingers rest lightly on her bishop, the cute little V she gets between her brows when something confounds her in evidence. Although I dislike it when something perturbs her, I find it adorable right now because it's just over a chess move. When she hears me answer Alice, her brow smooths, and she glances up at me with a slight smile.

"It amazes me that you guys can hear each other across the house. It must kind of suck, though . . . with a bunch of couples under one roof, huh?" She wiggles her eyebrows and I laugh.

"You have no idea . . . especially since I didn't have a mate when I lived with my family. Ugh."

"Oh, stop, you!" Alice bounds into the room, her exuberance hard to miss.

"Something good's happened," I inform Isabella.

"Yeah?"

"I can tell by Alice's Energizer Bunny routine and the fact that she's trying extra hard to keep me out of her head by reciting the Bible in Aramaic."

Isabella's eyes grow wide, and she turns to face Alice. "You speak _Aramaic_?"

Alice giggles. "And a host of other languages."

My eyes cut to my beautiful mate's wonder-struck face. "I say Alice comes bearing good news and you focus on the fact she speaks Aramaic?"

"Sorry. You all keep blindsiding me with your mad skills in . . . everything." She laughs. "Alice, what's the news?"

"I think I found Hannah."

Dead silence. The smile slips from Isabella's face. Her hand moves to cover her abdomen, and even without reading her mind, I know she's thinking of the baby that may be taking root inside her at this very moment.

"Where is she?" Isabella's voice is a choked whisper, and her heartbeats are fast and unsteady.

I watch her carefully, concerned by the way she seems to be withdrawing even as she asks for the information. Moving around the table, I grab her hand, pulling her over to the loveseat. I sit beside her with my arms wrapped around her. "It's going to be okay. Whatever happens, I'll be beside you all the way."

"I—I know. It's just . . . I've had to learn to tamp down the hope in order to function. And now there's so much up in the air. About Hannah, about our possible baby."

"Wait, what?" Alice glances between the two of us.

"You didn't see this, Alice?"

"No. Then again, Isabella is half Quileute. That could explain why I saw her but not with the detail I usually do." Her eyes glaze over slightly, and then she shakes her head. "I don't see your futures clearly. So . . . you might be pregnant? How is that possible?"

I quickly explain about being immune to Isabella's blood and what that could potentially mean.

"Well, you weren't immune to her blood the first time. I'm going to hazard a guess it has to do with Hannah's blood. That was the cure, right?"

"Yes!" Isabella grows excited. "Hannah's blood is the cure, so maybe it also provides some kind of immunity. But will it last?"

"That's a good question," I muse.

"Tell me about Hannah?" Isabella's voice is soft and tentative—childlike—and she grips my hand tightly.

"I found a Harry and Margaret Donovan living in a suburb outside of Seattle. Apparently, they both retired young. They're squeaky clean and above reproach, from what I can find. I doubt they have any idea why they really have custody of Hannah."

"Thank God they're good people." Isabella slumps against me like a rag doll. "What now?"

"Now Jasper and I will go do a little reconnaissance and see what we can find out. We're planning to leave tonight, if that's okay with you."

"What about me?"

"I think it's best if you stay here and keep healing. I promise to keep you informed. We also need to think about where Hannah should stay when we bring her home."

Isabella starts to shake, and I pull her tighter against me. Her arms reach up around my neck, and she hides her head, whispers of, "Oh, my God. Oh, my God," warm against my chest. I hold her and stroke her back until she can breathe freely again.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," I whisper to her.

"What kind of mother could I be to her? I'm falling apart at the seams!"

"We'll do whatever is necessary. You'll have help."

"What kind of environment is all this for a young child, Edward? What if those _demons_ come here?"

That was a possibility I couldn't deny. I looked at Alice over Isabella's bent head, hoping she'd have some inspiration. Hannah staying at our house would put everyone at a disadvantage.

"What do you want me to do, Isabella? It's not advisable to leave her with the Donovans. As nice as they are, what happens if James decides he wants to remove her from their care?"

She's quiet for a moment, and Alice shrugs her shoulders. I'm not coming up with a good solution, either. We can't hire a nanny because the chance of exposure would be too great.

"I know." Isabella suddenly seems calm and sure. "What if she stayed on the Reservation? We could ask Sue . . . my m-mother. I'm sure she wants to get to know her grandchild. Hannah will be close by, protected, and James wouldn't think to look for her there."

"That could work." I nod slowly, thinking it through. "Alice?"

Alice bites her lip, a faraway look in her eyes. "Well, I can't see anything that goes on over there, but I can't think of a better plan. They consider Isabella family, and I'm sure they'd protect Hannah with their lives if it came down to it."

"We'd have to work out some kind of visitation, though. I don't think I could let you go onto the Res without me, and they would never allow one of us on their land." Panic seizes me at the thought of Isabella disappearing off our radar for any length of time. A sharp ache tugs at my chest even as guilt floods through me for saddling Isabella with yet another concern.

She turns her lovely face up to mine and presses her warm hands against my cheeks. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. Uncle Billy will support us, and I just know that Sue will. I'd like to see her. I don't even know what I feel yet about her being my biological mother."

"I think that's only natural. You've been through more than anyone should have to deal with, my love."

Alice touches Isabella's shoulder. "I'm going to get packed. I'll have my cell with me if you need me. Try not to worry too much, okay?"

"Thank you, Alice. And Jasper, too." It's hard to miss the fact that Isabella seems glad Jasper won't be around.

After Alice leaves, we snuggle on the loveseat for a while in silence, just rocking slowly. Isabella holds me together, soothes me, like no one ever has. I only pray that I can give her all that she needs before her time runs out.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Who wants to share a party-in-a-box with Edward? *Raises hand* What do you think Edward's favorite flavor or scent is? Some more backstory on Isabella, more SEX, and news about little Hannah. We're getting closer . . . Thoughts?**

**You guys didn't string me up (too bad) over the potential pregnancy. Is she or isn't she? I'm not saying.**

**See you next Tuesday!**

**Just a note for readers of my other stories. RK chapters have been written well in advance, which is why I can update frequently. I'm currently in the home stretch with my novel. I apologize, but until June rolls around, updates will continue to be slow. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and I adore all of you for your patience and support. IWIPB is the next story to be updated.**

**My entries from the FWAR Poetry Contest will be posted on my blog by tomorrow if you're interested in reading.**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**

**Blog: SaritaDreaming (dot) wordpress (dot)com**


	17. Chapter 17 Mortal Bonds

**A/N: Hey, awesome readers! This chapter carries a warning—difficult subject matter and situations ahead.**

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

**~Mortal Bonds~**

_**The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn. ~David Russell **_

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><p>It's been five days since Alice and Jasper left to search for and observe the Donovans and Emmett and Rosalie left for Colorado. Things have been rather quiet around here. With our numbers down, the wolves have stepped up patrols around our property in an effort to ensure Isabella's safety.<p>

Recent events seem to have drained Isabella, and she's been sleeping more than normal. I've caught her rubbing her stomach and looking off into the distance a number of times, and I wonder if she's having second thoughts about the child she might be carrying. It's almost as if she senses that she _is_ with child and it's created an inner turmoil she can't reconcile. I've been too much of a coward to question her because I'm not certain what my own feelings are on the matter; I only know that I must do everything possible to protect my mate.

Isabella sleeps while I pace the cottage like a caged animal. I'm restless. Nervous. I'm unused to remaining so still while others are in the midst of the action. There are so many balls in the air right now, and I feel a certain sense of impotence.

"Edward," Carlisle calls softly from out front.

When I join him, I know immediately he's here to impart unpleasant news: his face is tense, his normally kind expression grim.

"What's wrong?" I close the door behind me. As usual, the night is silent around us, but there's an eerie wind tonight that rustles the leaves and moans as it winds its way through the trees.

"It's about Isabella's latest test." Carlisle looks down at the ground, his hands jammed in his pockets. "She's pregnant, Edward."

The words fall on me like heavy stones. Pregnant. Our baby is growing inside her, a baby that will kill her.

"Fuck." I rake a hand roughly through my hair. "How long does she have to decide? Despite what she said, I don't think it's going to be easy for her to . . . to take care of this."

"I suspected as much. A month, but no more. This fetus will quickly suck the remaining life out of her." He clasps my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Son. If there's anything at all I can do, let me know."

"Thanks. I'll talk to her."

Once I'm alone, I fall to my knees in the dirt. Is the universe conspiring against Isabella? Does God want her back so badly that He will stack the deck against her, leaving no chance for her to win? And how am I to tell her that she's carrying my child one moment and in the next breath ask her to abort the fetus?

"Oh, Isabella . . ." I whisper softly.

I want to destroy every tree in the forest, to run fast and far. I want to find a group of the lowliest scum and drink my fill. I want to scream.

I do none of these things.

Most of all, I wish I was human and that the child my mate carries wouldn't someday tear its way out of her womb.

Instead, I smolder and burn. For her, I burn.

I swallow the bitterness and grief, knowing she needs my strength. I dread the conversation ahead but can't seem to stay away; even in her slumber, I'm drawn to her in an almost compulsory way. Gravity.

She sleeps on, blissfully unaware of the heaviness that sits on my chest, of the words that burn like acid on my tongue before they even leave my lips. There are no nightmares tonight. Perhaps the universe is allowing her a modicum of peace before she's forced to face the waking nightmare that awaits. I hate myself for knocking her up, and I hate myself in advance for being the one who will shatter her world by telling her the news. If _she_ hates me for this, it's nothing less than I deserve.

I face the wall with my forehead pressed against the smooth plaster. It's with great difficulty that I don't put my head through it. At this moment, I don't even feel worthy of looking upon her beauty. In my self-flagellation, I miss it when she wakes.

"What's happened?" Isabella's voice is a faint whisper loaded with dread.

I want to remain facing the wall when I tell her, but that wouldn't be fair. My conscience won't allow me to be a coward, and so I turn and go to her. I kneel beside the bed and caress her sweet face in my palm, my other hand bracing on the mattress beside her slight body.

"Isabella . . . you're carrying my child." I close my eyes and lay my head down on her stomach. "I'm so sorry. This is entirely my fault, and there's no excuse for my stupidity."

She gasps, her stomach rippling beneath me as her heart begins an irregular staccato. But underneath the cacophony of her harsh breaths and the beats of her heart, I hear another heartbeat, faint and fast. Dear God. To hear the sound of _my_ child living inside her is almost too much to bear.

The only sound she makes is a keening whimper. The fingers of one hand claw at my hair and the other joins my hand on the bed. Sorrow pours off her in torrents, and I try to absorb it all in the hope it will somehow lessen her pain. I join her on the bed, and we lay together: Isabella cries bitter tears while I listen to the faint beat of our child's heart and wish I could cry, too.

After a time, her tears slow, and her breathing evens out after several hiccuping sobs. "Edward? How long do I have?"

Fear jolts through me, and I lift my head so our eyes can meet. "What are you asking me?" Surely she wouldn't try to go through with this pregnancy knowing what it would do to her already ravaged body.

"I'm asking you how long I have to decide. This is so much h-harder than I thought it would be."

Relieved, I press a kiss to her lips. There I taste salt and bitterness and pain. "No more than a month. The pregnancy will be accelerated, but you do have some time to decide." I rest my forehead against hers, thankful when she doesn't reject me.

"I knew," she whispers, reaching between us to caress her abdomen.

"You did?"

"A woman can feel these things. I knew right away with Hannah. I felt _different_ then, and I feel different now. The first time, I was s-so happy—" More tears fall, but she holds herself together. "Edward . . . it hurts so much more knowing this baby is yours."

"I know, baby. It's killing me, too."

"It is?"

I suppose I deserve that after the way I initially handled the issue. Isabella thinks I don't care about our child, but she's wrong. Daggers are twisting in my gut at the thought of killing a being made up of the sum of our parts.

"_Yes_, Isabella. I acted like such a bastard when we first found out, and for that, I'm sorrier than I can express. This baby is part you and part me—how could I not die inside when participating in deciding his or her fate?"

"I love you so much." She winds her arms around my neck and twists her body to press her chest against mine. "Somehow we'll do this—together."

"I love you, Isabella. More than anything that ever has or will exist. I love you beyond reason."

We grieve over our child together.

**~*RK*~ **

The vomiting is an act of violence against her. Isabella's frail body quivers, shakes, and convulses as the contents of her stomach is emptied over and over until there is nothing left. Even still, the heaving continues, and all I can do is hold her hair back, rub her back, and whisper worthless platitudes in her ear.

By the time Carlisle arrives, the worst of it's over, but she's reduced to a weak mass of gangly limbs on the bathroom floor. She's lost more weight; the ribs standing out in sharp relief and the jutting bones of her shoulders say so.

Carlisle stands in the hall outside the bathroom looking aggrieved. He hates that he can do nothing for her. Isabella has three more weeks to decide, and so far she hasn't been able to bring herself to say the words that will end the life of our child. I don't begrudge her that, except when she's in a heap on the bathroom floor. At these moments, I want to decide for her. I want to knock her out, let Carlisle perform the procedure, and deal with her wrath later. I would never, but the temptation is there.

"She's too weak, Edward. We'll have to do another IV." He speaks quietly so she won't hear. "And you both need to consider stepping things up as far as making a decision."

"I know. I'll bring her into the bedroom. Why don't you set things up?"

What he doesn't need to say is that our choices are limited to two: death or abortion. Isabella won't make it through this pregnancy, and that means it's likely the baby won't, either. Continuing in this vein could mean losing them both.

"Isabella, I'm going to lift you up, okay?"

"Mm-mm . . ." She nods her head.

I prop her by the sink with my arms around her torso so she can brush her teeth and splash water on her face. If I let go, her legs will give out right now. Her eyes are glazed and listless, and there's a waxy pallor to her clammy skin.

When she finishes, I scoop her in my arms and enter the bedroom, placing her on the bed gently. Her fingers claw weakly at my shirt.

"Edward, please stay with me." Her eyes are frightened, which in turn frightens me.

I always stay with her. I haven't been hunting again and have given her no reason to think I wouldn't be right here beside her, so this insecurity causes me to glance over at Carlisle. His eyes are sad.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about anything but getting well, okay?"

"Okay."

She winces at the sting of the needle Carlisle slides into her arm, but closes her eyes and quickly drifts into an exhausted sleep. Her skin, which was heated and sweaty from the vomiting, is now nearly as cold as mine. I tug the comforter up and tuck it under her chin before lying down beside her. My fingers trail lightly over her forehead into her limp hair which is rapidly losing its new found luster.

"Edward, I want you to hang another bag when this one's done."

"This is bad, isn't it?"

"You already know the answer to that. The baby is using up the scant resources her body can scare up with my Neupogen substitute. Even if we do end the pregnancy . . . this is a major setback. I'm working hard on a cure, but there's a missing element I just haven't been able to figure out." The frustration is evident in his voice.

Once Carlisle is gone, my mind wanders to conversations I've had with Alice over the past several days. Harry and Margaret Donovan are indeed taking good care of Hannah, but their private conversations have been of some concern. They no longer trust James and feel he may have hired them under false pretenses. His assertions that he's protecting the child from her criminally negligent mother have fallen flat. They're unimpressed that James rarely calls to check on his daughter, although money continues to be deposited into their bank account like clockwork. It's begun to feel like hush money, and they've been discussing tying up all their loose ends and running with Hannah.

Alice said Jasper's calming influence has slowed them down, but she's pretty sure once the report of Isabella's "death" hits the news, the Donovans will run like hell. I asked her to hold off removing Hannah from their care for now because Isabella is in no condition to deal with anything else. Part of me feels guilty for making that decision, but Hannah is safe, cared for, and being watched over by two caring people who are being watched over by two vampires prepared to pull the plug at a moment's notice if things get dicey.

My sister agreed with my assessment, and her voice was so forlorn when she asked after Isabella. "I just can't see what's going to happen, Edward. I wish I could."

"I know. Me, too."

The vibration of my cell phone draws me out of the memories, and I slip to the other side of the room to answer it.

"Hey, Em."

"Hey, bro! How goes it?"

If I wasn't so despondent over Isabella's condition, the sound of my jovial brother would lift my spirits. "Not that good. How are things on your end?"

"Like clockwork. The cabin is in cinders, and Demetri 'discovered' Isabella's remains. He's on his way to keep an eye on Senator Douchebag as we speak. Reports of her death should be hitting the wires tonight."

"Excellent."

"We're going to tail Demetri for a while, make sure he does what he promised. Unless you need us at home . . ." Emmett trails off uncertainly.

"No, that sounds perfect. The wolves have been doing extra patrols of our property, so we're good. Besides, with you on Demetri's tail, him on Hunter's tail, and Alice on Hannah, we're covered six ways to Sunday."

"Yup. Rosie says hello to you and Izzy-B." When I snort, he says, "Okay, mostly to Isabella, but she's warmed to you significantly since you mated."

"Thank you both for doing this."

"That's what family's for. So, uh, you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really."

"That bad, huh?" Emmett's voice is hushed, which is a rarity with my boisterous brother.

"We're doing all we can. I just have to pray it's enough."

Rustling sounds come over the line, and I hear Emmett battling Rosalie to keep the phone. There's a solid _thwack! _which must be Rose smacking him on the back of the head.

"Edward, what's going on?"

"Hello, Rose."

"Fuck the pleasantries. What are you hiding?"

I sigh. She'll find out sooner or later, and then I'll just catch a rash of shit for hiding it. "Isabella's pregnant."

"What? How the hell could that happen?" Rosalie explodes. "I mean, I _know _how it happens, but I thought Carlisle said it couldn't."

I explain what I know. It hurts all over again to say the words, and I glance over at Isabella, who still sleeps peacefully.

"What does Carlisle say?"

"She won't survive it."

"She's having a hard time about aborting the baby." Rosalie wasn't asking, she was stating a fact.

"Yes. Frankly, Rose, so am I." She makes a surprised sound, but I continue on. "This baby means a great deal to me, but I can't lose Isabella. The way things are going, we may lose them both."

"You know I'm a realist, Edward. As much as I'm against abortion, I know in this case it's necessary. I'm sorry for you, truly. We don't always see eye to eye, but . . . well, you know."

"I love you, too, Rose." I smirk.

"Whoa! Who said anything about love?" Rosalie snorts. "Just take care of her—and yourself. Okay?"

"Will do."

After hanging up with Rose, I recline on the bed next to Isabella as she sleeps peacefully for the rest of the night.

The morning dawns bright and clear, the sun making a rare appearance. Isabella's mood is slightly better, and she even plays a game of chess with me in the sun-room. The sky, visible through the domed glass, is blue with puffs of cottony clouds floating here and there.

She looks better today, the fluids Carlisle administered plumping her skin, and her eyes are clearer. It seems since I confessed how much our child means to me, her outlook is brighter.

"Check." Isabella smirks at me.

She's about to beat me again, and I smile. Before she can deliver the coup d'état, there's a knock on the door.

"Saved by the bell." I lean over to kiss her cheek. "I'll be right back."

As I head toward the living room, I hear Esme talking quietly with a woman I've never seen before and yet feel I have.

I join them outside, and Esme introduces the woman as Sue Clearwater. Now it makes sense to me. I appraise Isabella's birth mother. Looking beyond the russet skin, exotic cheekbones, and thick black hair, I can see little resemblances here and there: the curve of her jaw, the slope of her nose, the arch of her eyebrows, and the shape of their earlobes. Sue bites her bottom lip, and I almost laugh out loud as I recognize one of Isabella's habits which tends to drive me to distraction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sue." I stand awkwardly, unsure if she would be repelled by shaking my hand.

Sue smiles graciously, saving me from the concern by sticking her own hand out and taking mine. She goes up on tiptoe to place a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you, Edward, for taking care of my daughter. Billy told me all that you're doing for her."

A rare and genuine smile stretches across my lips. "You're quite welcome. There's no limit to what I would do for her."

I hear Isabella's feet padding down the hall and into the living room, and I excuse myself. I'm not sure if she's ready to see her birth mother yet and want it to be her choice.

When I join her in the living room, her eyes are wide, her heart racing. "Isabella, Sue Clearwater is here with Esme. Is it all right if they come in?"

"Oh . . . y-yes." She leans into me for support as Esme opens the door.

Mother and daughter regard each other silently for a few moments until, almost as one, they come together and wrap their arms around each another. Isabella melts into Sue Clearwater in a way I've only seen her do with me. Surprisingly enough, I'm not the least bit jealous. I'm so happy for my mate—that she's anchored to this world by someone who can know the whole truth and still offer support.

"I never thought you'd find out. I'm sorry about the way it happened . . . but I'm so glad you know."

"Me, too . . . M-Mom."

Isabella leads Sue into the sun room, and they sit together on the wicker loveseat with their fingers linked. The more they move, the more I see them together, it's obvious they're related. One dusky, one pale, but they move alike and have many of the same mannerisms.

Esme makes some tea, and for the first time in a while, Isabella doesn't seem to need me.

"Isabella, would you be all right with Sue and Esme for a short while?" I kneel beside her and caress her cheek.

"I think so. Why?"

"I thought perhaps I should hunt. And I'm sure the two of you would like some privacy."

"Yes, this does seem like a good time to hunt. I don't mind you being here, though—I have no secrets from you." Isabella smiles at me, and her eyes are brighter than I've seen them in the past few weeks.

"I'll see you soon then." I lean in and kiss her sweet lips, reveling in the warmth of her hand on my face. "Sue." I nod.

"Thank you for everything, Edward." Sue smiles, and I can see where Isabella inherited her natural grace and acceptance.

Once I'm away from the cottage, I realize how much I need this, too. I've been there for Isabella to such an extent that I forgot about myself and my own needs. My teeth ache to sink into the warm flesh of a human, to taste the velvet wine of human blood as it streams over my tongue, but I can't stray far enough to indulge. Instead, I'm left with the animal kingdom again. Resentment sits like bitter bile on the back of my tongue when I think of the treaty that keeps me from having a proper meal.

What will I come across today? Will another family of deer lose their protector? Will more babes lose their mother? At least with the human populace I can read their minds to find the vilest specimens, but with animals, all are innocent. I need to feed, though. And so I must make a choice.

In the end, I take down a large bear—Emmett's favorite—because its sheer size will keep me better fed, thereby extending the amount of time between feedings. I picture Isabella's sweet face as I drink, almost able to completely block out the bear's thoughts as he dies. Thankfully, his memories don't include a family.

I'm never completely sated by animal blood, and although the taste was viler than the buck from a few weeks ago, I feel more satisfied.

I call Esme to make sure everything is all right with Isabella. Once she assures me that it is, I decide to let off some steam. Racing through the woods, I rush up the hill to the cliffs where I took Isabella. Falling to my knees, I let out an agonized bray as I allow my own feelings to surface. The pain of knowing my child growing inside Isabella will kill her. The pain of making the decision to end our child's life in an attempt to save her. Anger over my own stupidity because this entire scenario was preventable.

Standing up and putting my cell phone on a boulder, I dive off the edge of the cliff, arms at my sides, and head for the rocks below like a speeding bullet. It takes me 4.7 seconds to slam into the jagged rocks, which shatter into thousands of pieces.

I feel nothing on the outside. Inside, the turmoil lets loose like a tempest, and I yell and flail and break more rocks. I dive beneath the surface of the brackish water, heading out into the deep, and dive down to break apart more rock that won't be visible from ashore

I breathe in through my nose and open my mouth, taking water inside me in an attempt to punish myself—even though I know it can't harm me. I've been inside the mind of someone who nearly drowned, and I long to feel the burning pain and struggle as lungs threaten to burst. I want to hurt because _she _hurts. My Isabella.

In the end, I kneel on the beach sicking up saltwater in mighty heaves. It's uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt, and I'm left dissatisfied.

_What the fuck is he doing? _Thoughts filter into my mind, and I glance up to see Jacob Black standing on the Quileute side of the treaty line with his arms crossed over his pumped up chest. He's vaguely amused to see me on my knees, and immature images run through his head.

In less than a second, I'm on my feet and in his face. "Do you mind?"

"Oh, no—not at all. Please continue." He gestures toward the beach. When he smiles, his teeth are almost unnaturally white against his russet skin.

"I'm having a private moment."

Jacob snorts. "Moment? More like a tantrum. Or a vampire breakdown. Is that it? Are you losing your fucking mind?" He points his index finger at his temple and swirls it.

My fists clench, and I seriously consider making a grab for him. As if sensing this, Jacob draws a line in the sand with the toe of his sneaker. "Uh, uh . . . you wouldn't want to break the treaty, now would you?" Again, he offers up his toothpaste commercial smile. Someday I might make him swallow some of those big white teeth.

"Don't bait me, Jacob. I'm not nearly as nice or peacekeeping as the rest of my family."

"Yeah, I got that impression." Jacob nods his head. "Just so we're clear: I don't like you, Edward. And I don't trust you. My father says you're good for her, that you're trying to save her. That better be true because if she dies, I'm coming for your cold, undead ass." He jabs his finger at my chest, and I grab it in my iron grip.

"The feelings are mutual." I bare my teeth at him. "But if you get in my face again, you won't have long to wait for that fight—treaty or not."

"Whoa! Don't get your knickers all in a twist, huh?" Jacob pulls his hand out of mine, but only because I choose to let go. He grits his big white teeth and tries not to show how much it hurt.

But I know it hurt like hell, and I get a sense of satisfaction from it. _Very mature, Masen._

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Tough subject matter, I know. I didn't intend to go this route when this story started, but my characters led me in this direction. Comments are always welcome and encouraged. I love to know what you're thinking, even if you don't like the way it's going.**

**See you next Tuesday!**

**Just a note for readers of my other stories. I apologize, but until June rolls around, updates will continue to be slow. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, and I adore all of you for your patience and support. The next chapter of IWIPB is in progress, and I'll have it out as soon as possible.**

**Love a man in uniform? Write for the SMYP (Show Me Your Patriotism) contest. I'm judging on this one, along with an awesome bunch of ladies. Follow on Twitter (at) SMYPcontest and check out the fanfic page h t t p : / / w w w . fanfiction . Net / u /3982269 / SMYPContest**

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	18. Chapter 18 Thorns of Crimson

**A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed their Mother's Day! This chapter—along with the next few—carries a _difficult subject matter _warning. It's going to get more intense before it gets better.**

**Many thanks and some private moments in a bathtub with Edward to Jen (mycrookedsmile), Nico (nicoconsd), Mary (edward620), Jennifer (chartwilightmom), and Keye (Keyecullen) for the f-awesome reviews and pimping on the Perv Pack's Smut Shack blog this week! I blushed to the roots of my hair after reading all the things they had to say about RK. If you'd like to read the review, a link is on my profile.**

**Mucho thanks to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their awesome suggestions and feedback. I'm addicted to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, who wield those sparkly reds with finesse. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

**~Thorns of Crimson~**

_**On every thorn, delightful wisdom grows,  
>In every rill a sweet instruction flows.<br>~Edward Young **_

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><p>As evening falls, Isabella is cradled in my arms on our bed. The TV is still on in the living room, offering background noise. I don't mind silence—though nothing is ever truly silent to vampire ears—but she seems comforted by the drone.<p>

Sue spent the afternoon, leaving just before dinner. Isabella's cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright, and she can't seem to stop gushing about her mother. It almost makes me forget the predicament we're in, and I choose not to discuss the choice we need to make rather soon tonight.

"It's weird . . . I have a half brother and sister. I wonder how Seth and Leah are going to feel about this."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Give them a little time." I kiss her forehead, and she snuggles closer with her hand on my chest.

"Thank you for giving me time with my mother. God, it feels weird to call her that, but at the same time, it feels right."

"It's clear to me that you're related. You have her mannerisms and some similar features. She unconsciously bites her lip, too." I smile into her hair.

"Really? Wow. Wonder why I never noticed."

"You weren't looking for that, and if you did see it, I doubt you would have wondered if she was your mother."

"True." Isabella laughs softly. "Sue said she would be honored to take Hannah into her home for as long as we need her to. Hannah will be safe among family when Alice and Jasper bring her back."

"That's wonderful. You realize Hannah may need to live there semi-permanently, right?"

"Why?" Her fingers tighten on my shirt, twisting the material.

"When Carlisle figures out the cure, I'll need to change you immediately. Once you're changed, it may be quite some time before you can be around humans without . . . wanting their blood."

"You think I'd drink from my own _child_? Are you kidding me?" She lifts her head, and the ire is evident in her eyes.

"Isabella, you will want to drink from anyone and everyone until you gain control of your thirst. I don't say this to hurt you, but keep in mind you'll no longer be human. There will be a new set of urges driving you."

"No matter what I become, I will always be Hannah's mother first. I won't be tempted to drink from her." There's a flat determination in her eyes.

"Regardless of what you believe, understand that I won't allow you near her unrestrained. Not until we're certain."

"That's a deal." She nods, but her gaze is challenging. "You're wrong, though. I would never harm a hair on my daughter's head."

"And I'll be more than happy to eat my words when the time comes."

The music that precedes a Breaking News report interrupts the movie playing on the TV. I sit us up, and although they haven't said what the report is yet, I just know it's about Isabella.

"There's a news report on. I think it's about you. Do you want to hear or would you rather not?"

"I want to."

We go to the couch, and she sits beside me with her head on my shoulder.

"_I'm Sasha Stone with breaking news in the case of Isabella Swan-Hunter. Last month, Senator James Hunter's wife allegedly tried to gun him down in cold blood when she suspected him of cheating on her with Mara Sivalis, the senator's press secretary. Swan-Hunter jumped bail and has been on the run ever since. Until tonight, when the search for the fugitive from justice ended in tragedy. The remains of Isabella Swan-Hunter were found in a remote cabin in Colorado that burned to the ground. Dental records were used for identification. Preliminary reports from the Fire Marshall indicate the fire was accidental. No arson is suspected._

"_Senator Hunter was contacted and gave us a brief statement to read in lieu of holding a press conference at this time. 'The news about my wife has come as a shock to us all. On behalf of myself and my family, we humbly ask everyone to respect our privacy during this tragic time.'_

"_A private service will take place in an undisclosed location. Attendance is by invitation only. I'm Sasha Stone. We now return you to normal broadcasting."_

I remain silent, allowing Isabella the benefit of reacting however she needs to. She doesn't need me growling, snarling, and cursing over her cunning husband. Somehow I know he'll spin all of this in his own favor. He may even end up in The White House because of it—that is if he lives long enough. Wherever he is, whatever he does, and however much protection he has, it will never be enough to keep me from exacting justice against him.

"Oh, boy. Well, it's done then. I'm officially dead." Her voice is eerily calm.

I wait for her breakdown, but it never comes. After a time of silence, she sighs lightly and asks if I mind terribly if we watch _Seinfeld_. I'm more than happy to put on the quirky comedy if it will lighten her heavy heart. It's even starting to grow on me a little bit. Very little, but then again, I'm from a different era.

An hour later, Rosalie shows up, her thoughts full of sympathy for Isabella.

"My sister, Rose, is here."

"Oh. I'll be okay while you go talk."

"She's not here for me. Is it all right if she comes in?"

"Of course! Come in, Rosalie."

Rosalie saunters in, wearing a form fitting short sleeved tee, skin tight black jeans, and cobalt four inch spike heels. Only she would chase bad guys in peep-toe Jimmy Choos. I rise to greet her, and she grabs me in a hug and thumps me hard on the back.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she whispers. Slowly, she approaches the couch and Isabella. "May I?"

Isabella nods, and Rose sits beside her, taking Isabella's hand tentatively. When there's no sign of rejection, Rose pulls her into a hug. Isabella leans willingly into her arms and returns the gesture.

"I'm so sorry, Isabella. You've been saddled with more things than any one woman should ever have to bear. I just want you to know I'm here for you if you need me. Our whole family is."

"Thank you, Rosalie. That means a lot to me."

_Edward, can you give us a little girl time?_

I raise my eyebrows in surprise but excuse myself and head outside. I stroll toward the main house to offer them some privacy. I'm confounded by Rose's reaction to Isabella, but who am I to get in the way of any support offered? The cool stillness of the night and lack of wildlife creates a cocoon of calm I only wish I could lose myself in. If Isabella dies, I'll never have a moment of peace again.

Carlisle greets me on the front porch. "Good evening, Edward."

"Father."

"I'm glad you're here. Have you and Isabella discussed—"

"No, not yet. I couldn't bring myself to ruin today for her—you know, with her mom stopping by and all."

"Ah, yes. I'm so glad she has some family, even if they are our enemies. Perhaps this can help bridge the divide."

I snort. "Well, Billy and Sue seem reasonable. Jacob Black, on the other hand, is campaigning to have his face rearranged by yours truly."

"Oh?"

I explain what happened earlier today on the beach, and Carlisle claps me on the shoulder, shaking his head. "Edward, I get the impression Jacob feels protective over Isabella because he's known her since they were kids. And you can't forget that he's a young shifter who's still adjusting. Remember your newborn days?"

"Touché." A smile tugs at my lips. "But I'll still break his face if he doesn't back off."

"How's Isabella?"

"She's in better spirits today—and believe it or not, Rose is at the cottage with her right now, offering support."

"Yes, Rose seems to have a soft spot for your lovely mate." Carlisle grins.

We sit on the steps and look out at the night. I can hear Esme inside, her long nails tapping away at the computer keyboard. Despite the riches my family has amassed over the years, she still "works" at interior designing. She uses aliases, changing names every so often, but her reward is in the satisfaction of the work rather than the notoriety.

In the distance, I hear crickets chirping. In a way, I still miss that. As a child, I would go into the woods and lie still until the crickets around me began to sing. Now I can only hear them because of my vampiric hearing; I'll never lie in the dewy grass with my eyes closed and hear the forest come to life around me again.

"You know, we never fully discussed your immunity to Isabella's blood." Carlisle's voice draws me out of my thoughts.

"No. Do you think it's because she fed me Hannah's blood? Or do you think I developed a tolerance?"

"I'm guessing it's Hannah's blood. The question is whether that will wane over time. I'd like to do a test and see. Perhaps tomorrow you can bring her up to the house so I can draw a sample. I'd like to put her blood and your venom in a Petri dish and see what happens."

"Okay. And the cure? How's the research going?"

Carlisle sighs and hangs his head. "Edward, I'm so close. _So close_. I just don't know what's missing. I'm not giving up, though. I'll figure this out."

"I know you will, Father. Where's Emmett?"

"He's still tailing Demetri."

"You mean Rose came back alone just to support Isabella?"

"That's right." His smile is more than a little proud, and I'm more than a little surprised. Rose rarely leaves Emmett's side, and she certainly never allows a great distance between them.

"The news report was released tonight, by the way. Isabella is officially dead."

"Ah. Well, at least one obstacle is removed."

"Alice and Jasper are keeping track of the Donovans and Hannah, Emmett has Demetri, and Demetri is keeping an eye on Hunter. The cowardly senator released a prewritten statement to the press. He thinks nobody knows where he is."

"Edward, do you have any idea how James Hunter came to have the same blood anomaly as Isabella? Since we're now aware it's due to her Quileute lineage, I'm wondering about his situation."

"According to my research, he's the son of two blue blooded Americans and comes from old money. His mother is deceased, and his father is in a high priced nursing home with Alzheimer's. Very convenient. On the other hand, I have a feeling he's not aware of what makes his blood different."

"I agree. If he did know, he'd be experimenting on Quileutes in addition to vampires. I'm going to go on the assumption he has the Quileute gene as well."

"I wonder how many humans with this anomaly are out there."

"That brings up the question of whether it only takes a Quileute and someone of another nationality procreating to create a child with the anomaly or if there's some other variable as well. I suspect we'll never know the answer to that. I _am_ concerned about the Volturi getting wind of this. They'll require that everyone who is a threat to vampires be destroyed."

"Yes. Even if Demetri allowed Aro to touch him—which he doesn't, by the way—as far as he knows, we tested James Hunter's blood. He has no idea that Isabella has any involvement other than being my mate."

"Let's keep it that way—and hope the Volturi don't get involved. Somehow, anytime they get into the middle of a situation, innocents get hurt."

"I agree. I should get back to her."

Carlisle touches my arm. "Your eyes are lighter. Did you hunt again?"

"Yes."

"Has it grown easier?" There's a gleam of hopefulness in his eyes that irritates me.

"No. I really don't want to get into this with you. I've agreed to feed your way only because I need to be close to Isabella. Once we're away from here, my intention is to return to feeding on human blood."

Carlisle grimaces. He still doesn't understand how repugnant animal blood is to me—both the taste and the knowledge that I'm killing the most innocent of beings. I wonder if he'll ever accept my choice or if the divide that stretches between us can ever really be bridged unless I give in and do it his way.

"Edward . . ."

"No." I stand up and pace back and forth in front of the steps, running my hand over the back of my neck. "You don't get to judge me. You can't possibly fathom what it's like for me— beside the substandard sustenance, I have to see the dying thoughts of the animals when I feed on them! You'd be hard pressed to find a human more innocent than an animal."

"I didn't realize you could read them . . ."

"You never asked, never gave me a chance. You just judged me." I glare at him, the bitterness evident in my voice.

"No, not judgment, Edward." _Why didn't you talk to me about it? Maybe we could have worked something out so you could block their thoughts, or—_

"Carlisle! Do you hear yourself? I don't _want_ to block their thoughts. I don't want to kill them at all. The most innocent of humans is still far viler than an animal. I agree we shouldn't kill indiscriminately, but surely ridding the world of the scum of the earth is preferable. I'm also capable of feeding without killing if necessary."

"You were feeding off women like a parasite. Don't you aspire to be better than what we are?"

I turn on him with a short laugh. "After the speech I just made, you latch onto _that_? We're vampires! You've had three hundred years to get the fuck over it!" Growing agitated, I grab him by his shirt and slam him up against the wall of the house. "And where in this holier-than-thou act of yours does creating more monsters have its place? Who the fuck asked you to turn me into an undead creature?"

_Your mother did._

"She didn't know what you were! She thought you were a doctor. Surely you see that you lay blame on everyone around you? You alone chose to turn me, to turn Rose. Yes, we were dying, but you played God."

_And what of you, Edward? You aren't going to "play God" with Isabella?_

Turning us around, I leap from the porch, landing with Carlisle pinned beneath me. Bits of gravel fly up and plink against the windows of the house and off the side of Carlisle's car. I hear Esme gasp when she realizes what's happening. _Oh, dear._

"She's my mate." I growl deep in my throat. "I've never turned _any_ of the women I slept with. I've never turned anyone. If Isabella wasn't meant for me, do you really think I would curse her with what we are? She needs me just as much as I need her."

Esme is out the front door and beside us in seconds. "Edward, stop this." Her tone is admonishing, and I glare up at her.

"Are you seriously going to defend him?"

"This isn't about defending—it's about respect. Whether or not you agree with Carlisle, he's the head of this coven and has graciously allowed you and Isabella to stay here while he searches for a cure so you can change her. Now take your hands off _my_ mate and act civilized."

Esme is probably the only one in the world who can make me feel ashamed at this point in my existence. I immediately climb off Carlisle and offer my hand to help him up.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, stumbling back. Even though I feel justified in my feelings, a part of me wanted to hurt Carlisle. A part of me still resents him for turning me into _this_. I'm pissed that he can't bring himself to see my side, but the things Esme said are also true. "I have to get back. I'm sorry."

I turn and flee before either of them can answer. More than ever, I need the comfort I can only find in Isabella.

When I enter the cottage, I hear the slow, steady beats of Isabella's heart while she's in slumber. I make my way into the bedroom where Rose is sitting on the edge of the bed watching over Isabella.

"Hi. Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Edward. Are you?"

"Yes."

"Liar."

"I'll be all right."

"Do you want to talk?"

"Fuck, no. That would just be weird." I smirk at her.

"You have a point, but there's been a lot of weird lately." Rose stands up, allowing me to take her place beside Isabella.

As soon as my hands touch her warmth, I calm significantly. _She_ is the reason I exist, the reason I had to become immortal. We were born in different times but were meant to be together. I feel no guilt about changing her because she's already dying.

"I'm going back to the house. Let me know if you need anything . . . or want to talk."

"Thank you, Rose. Thanks for everything."

A few hours later, Alice calls to let me know the Donovans heard the news about Isabella's "death" and are talking about running. We decide it's too dangerous to allow them to take Hannah on the lam, so Alice and Jasper will step in once their plans are finalized.

I pace in front of the cottage, clasping my hands against the back of my neck. I feel a mixture of anger and guilt when it comes to Carlisle. Yes, he's done a lot for me, but I can't help but feel rejected by him. He refuses to see my side of things and seems particularly disgusted by the way I've fed off women in the past. I'm not sure where this distaste stems from, but whatever it is seems to be deterring him from hearing my side. Perhaps someday we'll get to the heart of the matter, maybe even heal our relationship, but for now we need to focus on more immediate issues.

The sky is beginning to lighten, welcoming the coming dawn, when I hear the first shriek.

"No, no, no! Edward!" Isabella's heart is pounding, and she sounds wide awake. "Please . . ."

My legs can't bring me to her fast enough, but I'm halted just inside the bedroom door by the strong scent of blood. Copious amounts of blood, soaking her nightgown and the sheets.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know. *cries* What do you guys think about Edward vs. Carlisle? Some hot under the collar moments there. Thoughts on Sue? Rosalie?**

**Just to clarify, because there have been questions, this is _not_ a canon story in any way, shape, or form. There will be no Jake-imprints-on-Bella's-baby moment or any other variety of moments from the saga. I rarely tie myself down to canon anything in my stories—with the possible exception of _Broken Windows—_so please keep this in mind and read the story with fresh eyes and an open mind. *wink***

**Love a man in uniform? Write for the SMYP (Show Me Your Patriotism) contest. I'm judging on this one, along with an awesome bunch of ladies. Follow on Twitter (at) SMYPcontest and check out the fanfic page h t t p : / / w w w . fanfiction . Net / u /3982269 / SMYPContest**

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**

**Blog: SaritaDreaming (dot) wordpress (dot)com**


	19. Chapter 19 Lacrimosa

**A/N: Hey everyone! We're still under the tough subject matter warning. There's a three tissue alert on this one. I thank you all for being so kind to me even if some of you don't agree with what's happening.**

**Edward licks to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for all their valuable feedback, support, and hilarity.**

**My betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, are the bestest. Put away the red pens . . . I know it's not a word, LOL. These two would catch it, though! They both rock.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

**~Lacrimosa~**

**_What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose._**

**_All that we love deeply becomes a part of us._**

~ **Helen Keller**

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><p>"Isabella!"<p>

She sits on the bed, holding her blood streaked hands out in front of her.

Her frightened eyes meet mine, and the tears standing in them spill over in a sudden torrent. "Help me. Please, Edward."

I'm on the bed taking her into my arms even as I pull my cell phone out of my pocket to call Carlisle. I know I could just yell loudly and he'd hear me, but so would the wolves patrolling the grounds. If Jacob Black showed his face right now, I'd kill him.

The blood is no temptation for me, even though it's gushing from between her thighs. I know what this means, and so does she.

"Carlisle, we need you right away! Isabella is bleeding."

"How much, Son?"

"Too much."

"I'll be right there."

I cradle her against me. "I'm sorry. Carlisle's on his way. Just hold on."

"Edward . . . I'm losing our baby." She claws at my arms that surround her, trying to bring us closer. "I'm bleeding to death. I don't want to leave you."

"No. I won't let you die."

"I'm so scared." She dissolves into keening sobs, and the rest of her words are garbled, but I don't need to hear them to understand she's scared out of her mind.

"Hold onto me. I promise you're going to be okay."

More blood gushes, and I rip off the top sheet and ball it between her legs just as Carlisle storms the cottage with Rose in tow. He surveys the amount of blood and shakes his head.

"Edward, we need to get her back to the house." He digs in his medical bag, coming out with a small bottle and a syringe. He draws up some of the clear liquid and kneels beside the bed. "Isabella, I'm going to give you something to relax you, okay?"

"O-Okay."

"We're going to get you back to the house. I'm so sorry, but you're having a miscarriage. I need to do a D&C."

A sob bubbles out, but she nods her head in understanding.

Carlisle gives her the shot and a minute later, Isabella's hold on my arms relaxes slowly until she's completely limp.

"Let's go! We need to get her straight down to the lab."

Twenty minutes later, and it's all over. Our baby is gone. Isabella's hemoglobin is 6.4, and she needs a transfusion. With few options available to us, Carlisle suggests Sue or one of Isabella's siblings might be a good blood match. He draws a tube of blood and asks Rose to run a type and cross match.

Isabella is resting peacefully for the moment, and I move to the other side of the room and call Sue.

"Hello?" Her voice is thick with sleep.

"Sue, it's Edward."

"Oh, God! What's wrong? Is she—"

"No, she's—Isabella had a miscarriage. She lost a lot of blood, Sue, and she needs a transfusion. Do you know your blood type? Your children's?"

"No, I'm not sure. Tell me what I can do!"

"We'll need to do a test to see if any of you are a match."

"Leah's in Seattle, but Seth and I will be right over."

With a deep sigh, I hang my head. Once again, I wish I could shed tears. Our baby is gone, and Isabella is weaker than ever. What kind of world is this where a soul as beautiful as hers has to suffer so much? If I wasn't needed so desperately here, I'd be on my way to Spain to pay a not-so-friendly visit to James Hunter. My teeth come together with an audible snap, and I swallow back a mouthful of venom.

"Edward . . ." Isabella's weakened voice cuts through my fantasies of hurting her husband.

In a split second, I'm at her side, holding her hand. Her skin is paler than normal, and deep in her eyes I see fear. I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it reverently. My beautiful mate, my goddess, doesn't deserve this agony.

"I'm here, my love." I press my cheek to hers. "I'm so sorry about our baby."

"I wish I could have given you a child," she whispers brokenly. "Am I going to d-die now?"

"No! You're going to be fine."

"I feel so strange, Edward . . . weak and short of breath."

"That's from the blood loss. I called Sue, and she's on her way over with Seth to see if one of them will be a match for a blood transfusion. Once we get some blood into you, I think you'll feel much better."

"You're not just saying that? I'm really going to be okay?"

I cup her sickly pale face between my palms. "Isabella, look at me." I wait for her soulful brown eyes to meet mine before I continue. "I will _never_ lie to you. You're going to make it through this."

"Through _this_ . . . but maybe not everything, right?"

"I'm going to do what I can to ensure you're by my side for eternity. I can't promise I'll be able to turn you, but Carlisle is working as fast as possible to make sure that I can."

She gazes into my eyes with complete love and trust. "Thank you for being honest with me . . . I don't think anyone's ever been completely honest with me before."

"Always. I will always be honest with you." I lean in to kiss her forehead which is cold and clammy. "Rest now, sweet one. You need every ounce of strength."

"Okay." Her sad eyes fill with tears again, and she clutches at my shirt. "Our little boy is gone. I feel . . . so empty and hollow inside."

"I'm so sorry. When you're feeling better, we can bury him down by the river if you'd like."

"Yes, I'd like that very much. I love you."

"I love you, too. Rest now."

Five minutes later, she's asleep. The bleeding has ceased, and I can hear Carlisle conversing in hushed tones with Sue and her son, Seth. He's explaining what happened to Isabella and his theories about why her body rejected the fetus so violently.

With everyone otherwise occupied, I have a few moments to review my own feelings. Isabella was carrying my son, a son I will never get to know. In a way, it's for the best because the likelihood of Isabella making it through the birth was less than five percent. Selfish or not, I have no desire to raise a child at the loss of my mate. The cost was just too high, and I'd probably never make it without her anyway.

My thoughts turn to Isabella's daughter. This is no place for a human child, and I'm thankful that Hannah will have a place on the Res. The only thing that would make it better would be if her home wasn't with my mortal enemies on land I'm not allowed to set foot on, but it is what it is.

Slowly, I fall to my knees and mash my fists into my eyes. My son. My boy. I wonder if he would have looked like me or a combination of me and Isabella. I wonder if he would have had the unruly reddish hair of his father or the glossy dark tresses of his mother. What kind of world would he find this? There are so few hybrids in existence; he might never come across another one. Being neither human nor vampire, would he ever find a mate? Or would he be cursed to walk the earth alone? Even knowing all of this, I mourn his loss.

The shuffle of someone's steps pulls me out of my grief, and I glance up to see Sue walking slowly across the room. "Edward," she acknowledges, pretending it's perfectly normal to see a vampire on his knees. _God, they're both going through so much._

"Hello, Sue." I rise to my feet with a nod.

"Seth is a match. Carlisle is prepping him."

"Excellent."

"How is she, Edward?" Sue's liquid brown eyes, which remind me so much of Isabella's, search mine, looking for truth. _Please don't let me lose her now._

"She's going to be fine. Carlisle has to find the cure that will allow me to turn her before our time runs out. We can bring her back from this, but there's still the danger of the leukemia killing her before we can change her."

"So, her only choice is to be a vampire?" Sue moves to stand beside the gurney and lays her hand over Isabella's. Her voice and thoughts hold no malice; she just wants to know what will become of her daughter.

"Yes. If she wasn't sick, I would offer her the choice."

"Really?" She turns her head, and it's disconcerting to see Isabella's keen gaze staring back at me. "I thought vampires mate for eternity."

"We do."

"You would let her go?"

"Of course. I would do anything for her, Sue, even to my own detriment. She's my life."

"Bless you, Edward." _To have that kind of devotion . . . I'm so happy for Isabella._

"That's probably the first time I've received a blessing since Carlisle sired me." I even manage a small smile.

Our moment is interrupted by Carlisle rolling in another gurney with a young Quileute reclining on it. He has a friendly, boyish face, and he smiles openly at me.

"You must be Edward. I'm so glad I'm a match for my sister. I want to help however I can."

"It's nice to meet you, Seth. Thank you for doing this."

"Pshaw. It's nothing. Now if my sister Leah was the match . . . forget it."

"Seth Clearwater!" Sue admonishes him in a forceful whisper.

"Ma, come on—everyone knows Leah is a bitch."

"Watch your mouth, young man."

"I'm twenty-two!"

"I can still cuff your ear—I don't care if you're fifty."

"Sorry, Ma."

When Sue turns her head, Seth mouths, _Leah is the biggest bitch ever_, and we share a conspiratorial smile. I like Seth; he seems to be one of the most "real" people I've ever met. Sue obviously did a great job raising him, and I wonder idly what the story is with this Leah.

***RK***

A few hours later, Isabella is back at the cottage resting in our bed. There's a tender pink tone to her cheeks, and her eyes are livelier. She keeps complaining that she was asleep while Seth and Sue were at the house—she slept straight through the transfusions, only waking as I was carrying her back to the cottage. I assure her there will be plenty of time to get reacquainted with her new family.

Carlisle's happy about the way she snapped back. Seth's blood has no leukemia cells, so his donation might help slow the process down slightly. I'm grateful for every extra moment we're given to find the answer.

Carlisle also took a sample of her blood before the transfusion to mix with my venom in a Petri dish. The results were not encouraging; Isabella's blood once again consumed my venom. While the process isn't as rapid as with the other venom samples, it's obvious my immunity is wearing off. If I drink from her now, I'll be down for the count.

"A penny for your deep ones." Isabella's soft voice draws my attention, and I turn my head to look into her beautiful eyes.

"I can't bite you again."

"Because I'm weak from blood loss? I though the transfusion—"

"No, because I'm losing my immunity. If I drink from you again, it won't end well."

"Oh!" She brings a hand up to cover her mouth. "I was hoping . . ."

"So was I. Carlisle is working around the clock on the cure, so hopefully we won't have to worry about any of this for much longer."

Isabella nods then looks over at me shyly. "Will you change me yourself?"

"Yes . . . if it's what you want." I thread my fingers through hers.

"Can you tell me about it? About how you'll change me?"

A knot forms in the pit of my stomach. I've avoided thinking much about what my sweet Isabella will have to go through to be mine for eternity. Yes, three days of agony can hardly be compared with century upon century of being together, but it will pain me to watch her go through it. Part of me fears she'll change her mind once she knows and will choose death instead.

"Isabella, it's not romantic like in some movies. There's nothing pleasurable or sexual about going through the change. I wish I could make it so for you."

"Tell me. I need to be prepared."

I look away from her intense gaze, staring into space for a moment. For some reason, I can't tell her face to face—perhaps I'm afraid if her face shows signs of distress, I'll falter and be unable to tell her the whole truth. So I tell her with my face turned away like a complete coward.

"Isabella, I have to bite you—likely in several places. I need to drink enough of your blood and then inject you with enough of my venom to start the change. After that . . . it will take three days. My venom will literally burn through you as it transforms each and every cell of your being. It hurts like hell, and you will beg me for death."

"It will burn?" she asks in a small voice.

"Yes, like the fiery pits of hell. There is no relief as the venom races through every vein, artery, organ, and neural pathway. It's like being set on fire from the inside out, but no water can quench it."

"Are you trying to scare me?"

Now I look her in the eyes. "No. But I need you to understand what this will be like so you can make your choice."

"I made my choice in the car on the way here. In my heart, I made my choice back at the cabin."

"Are you sure? Maybe you have some questions?"

"It will burn for th-three days? And then I'm done?"

I smile. "Yes, then you're done."

"And I'll never feel pain again?"

"Never again."

"You'll want me forever?"

"Beyond forever, Isabella." I sweep the hair off her cheek and snake my hand around the back of her neck, bringing my lips close to hers. "You are all I will ever need or want in this world." I brush my lips over hers: a promise to always cherish her.

Her hands run lightly up my chest and over my neck to tangle in my hair. "Yes," she whispers against my lips.

I don't ask her again if she's sure; Isabella has a mind of her own, and I know she wouldn't say yes unless she meant it. Happiness floods through me stronger than any emotion I've ever experienced. She wants me forever, too.

"Marry me."

"Edward, I'm already married." She laughs nervously.

I press my forehead against hers and look into her eyes. "Vampires aren't bound by the laws of man. Be my wife. Take my name. We'll have a small ceremony with my family once Hannah is safe. She can be the flower girl. Please."

"Yes, of course I will, Edward."

I spring from the bed and scoop her up in my arms, spinning us around the room. Her peals of laughter are a balm for my soul. Returning to bed, we make out like teenagers until she falls asleep in my arms. I'm not even insulted that she fell asleep mid-grope.

During the night, I receive an important call. I lie beside Isabella and wait anxiously for her to awaken. If she didn't need her sleep so desperately, I would rouse her. Instead, I lean against the headboard and daydream about what our life will be like together. I imagine how strong and beautiful she'll be as an immortal and have to fight against the hard-on that results—Carlisle advised against sex for the next few days. Besides, I'm wondering if she'll be interested in sex after what just happened.

At least her slumber is peaceful. She's curled up against me with her head on my chest, and every so often she murmurs my name in her sleep and tightens her fingers on my shirt. I remain patient, although I feel a sense of excitement building inside me.

A few hours later, Isabella opens her beautiful eyes, stretching and yawning like a kitten. "Good morning, Edward."

"Indeed it is, my love."

My tone grabs her attention, and she sits up quickly. I grin at the way her hair is flat on one side and sticks up in a frizzy halo on the other.

"Did something happen?"

"Yes."

"Well? Tell me!" She grabs the front of my shirt and looks up at me fiercely.

"Hannah is on her way home."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: A very sad chapter—hands out tissues. Are we all excited to meet little Hannah? Still some tough times ahead. This isn't the happiest story I've ever written, but I'm just the puppet. For those who are asking—yes, there will be a showdown of sorts with James.**

**Thanks to all who read, rec, and lurk this story. See you next Tuesday!**

**Love a man in uniform? Write for the SMYP (Show Me Your Patriotism) contest. I'm judging on this one, along with an awesome bunch of ladies. Follow on Twitter (at) SMYPcontest and check out the fanfic page h t t p : / / w w w . fanfiction . Net / u /3982269 / SMYPContest**

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**Facebook: SarahAislingAuthor**

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	20. Chapter 20 Darkness Giving to Light

**A/N: Welcome back, guys! Hope everyone had a lovely holiday weekend. Still under a tissue alert, but we're about to come out the other side.**

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

**~ Darkness Giving to Light ~**

**_Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies. ~_ Mother Teresa **

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><p>Isabella's face instantly fills with elation. "My baby's coming home?"<p>

"Yes. She should be here late tonight or tomorrow morning."

Isabella slaps a hand over her mouth, and her eyes fill with tears. "I can't believe it. I haven't allowed myself the luxury of hoping for so long. How did this happen?"

I pull her into my arms and rub her back. "Alice called during the night. The Donovans heard the news report about your death and decided to take off with Hannah. They don't believe Hunter is the innocent man he claims to be and sensed he's been using Hannah as a pawn in some kind of sick game. Alice and Jasper approached them and made a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"They tied up the Donovans, making it look like a kidnapping. This way James won't go after _them_. Soon, the bodies of two 'kidnappers' will be found in Puget Sound. Belongings of Hannah's will be found as well, but no body. We can't risk someone figuring out it wasn't her in the car, and a second fire would look really suspicious. Papers will be left behind at a local hotel outlining a plot to kidnap Senator Hunter's daughter."

Isabella's body starts to shake uncontrollably, and she sobs into my shirt. It's as if all that she's been holding inside let loose at once. I wrap my arms around her and let her cry it out. We have so much to mourn and yet so much to be grateful for. It must be disconcerting for her to know she's going to be reunited with her child and still be unsure if she'll be able to _be_ there for Hannah. Either way, Isabella has to die. One way will give her the chance to be a part of Hannah's life and the other will leave Hannah an orphan. Thank God Sue is willing to help raise her. While I laud Isabella's determination that she won't want to drink from her own flesh and blood, I'm very concerned over what her reaction will be when she catches the scent of Hannah's blood for the first time—and that's if Carlisle comes up with a cure in time.

There is no escape from the intense emotions. We decide it's best to bury our son before Hannah arrives. There's no reason for her to be exposed to our personal tragedy; it might only serve to scare her and leave her feeling vulnerable, knowing her mother may not live.

Isabella's eyes are dead looking as we head down to the river. The day is unseasonably warm, and the sun has made a rare appearance, reflecting off the pristine white snow that covers the ground and sparkling off the rolls and splashes of the bubbling river as it rushes by. She dons sunglasses since the brightness is harsh for her sensitive eyes. I do my best to stay out of the direct sun; Isabella doesn't need anything else to digest right now.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Sue, and Seth meet us down by the riverside. Isabella embraces her mother and brother, mumbling her thanks in a tear-filled voice. The three of them huddle together as a family unit, and Isabella holds a hand out, inviting me into that circle, which I gladly join.

"Of course we came," Sue whispers. "He's my grandchild."

"And my nephew." Seth leans his head against Isabella's. "I'm so sorry for your loss—both of you."

"Yes. This must be hard on you, too, Edward." Sue reaches around Isabella to touch my arm.

"It is. Thank you both for everything. For accepting Isabella and Hannah into your lives, for accepting me as her mate, for the blood that's helping to save her life, and for your support. I know it must be difficult with me being a vampire."

"Edward, we're family. Not all of the tribe is enthused over it, mind you, but I have no problem with you. My concern is that my daughter is loved, cherished, and taken care of, and you go above and beyond for her. What matters most to me is how you treat her, not what species you are."

A remarkable woman, just like her daughter.

Carlisle steps forward with a small wrapped bundle in his arms. Isabella's eyes grow wide behind the tinted lenses of her sunglasses, but she accepts the tiny package and cradles it to her chest while the tears stream down her beautiful face. I put my arms around her with our son nested between us.

"I wish I could cry with you." I kiss her forehead.

The ground is hard from the long, cold winter, but the earth yields easily to the super human strength of vampires. Carlisle digs a small grave beneath a tree beside the river, within sight of Isabella's flowers of hope which continue to bloom and grow proudly.

Isabella hands him to me, and I kiss the wrapped bundle before lowering him gently into the freshly dug hole. When I turn back, Isabella is sobbing silently in Sue's arms. Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie hover behind them, close enough to offer comfort without imposing. Rosalie looks nearly as devastated as we are, and I hear in her thoughts that she'd been praying for some kind of miracle to occur where Isabella and our child could both survive.

"Isabella," I call to her softly, placing my hand on her back.

She turns into my arms, resting her cheek on my chest. I know she's holding me as tight as her weakened body will allow, that it must hurt to hold my granite form so hard. I wish I had some softness to offer her as she shakes with more sobs, her cries reminding me of a heartbroken child that has been denied their most coveted desire.

"Would you like to throw the first handful of dirt?" I stroke her hair to soften the blow of my words.

"Let's do it together."

We both scoop some dirt from the pile, and I look to her for direction.

"This is for our little boy who could never be . . . Edward Anthony Masen the third. I'll never forget you," she whispers. She looks to me, tears leaking from beneath her sunglasses.

"For you, our son. You will never be forgotten." I nod to her, and we both toss our handfuls of dirt.

Everyone takes their turn sprinkling dirt into the grave. Thanking them all, I ask them to leave us alone for a while. After final hugs, tears, and consoling words, they take their leave.

I crouch down with my fingertips trailing in the overturned earth, and Isabella comes to stand beside me with her hand on my shoulder. Some of the snow beside the river is melting in the sun, glistening wetly as it morphs from its frozen state into something softer and more permeable. That's very much how I see myself since Isabella came into my life—I'm still frozen, but I've softened and transformed into another state of being because of our love for each other.

Standing up, I pull her into my embrace, burying my face in her hair. "You've changed everything for me. My existence was so empty and meaningless without you. I'm sorry about our son, and I'm sorry I didn't use more common sense."

"I'm not sorry. Even if I couldn't have him for l-long, I wouldn't change any of it. He was part me and part you—I . . . I can't regret him."

I smile against her hair. She has such a unique way of looking at the world, and I cherish her all the more because of it. "I don't regret him, either. My only regret is what you've had to endure. Is there anything I can do to ease your suffering? Name anything and it's yours."

"Edward, you're suffering, too. Please don't make this just about me."

"But you're what matters most to me. I want to right every wrong that's ever been done to you . . . I want to give you the world."

Isabella tips her head up and smiles at me, caressing my cheek in her palm. "You've already given me so much. If I died today, it would be with a clear mind. I know Hannah would be taken care of."

"Don't talk like that. Carlisle is going to find a cure."

"If he doesn't, I want you to know it's all been worth it to me. That you restored my belief in true love."

She removes her sunglasses, and her eyes look at me with tenderness even though they're puffy and red. There's a sense of peace in them she's never had before. While she stands by, I fill in the grave and pat down the earth. My intention is to have a small marker made to commemorate our son's short existence. When I'm finished, I hold my hand out to her, but she shakes her head and falls to her knees, bowing her head.

"Heavenly Father, please take little Edward's soul into your loving care. Thank you for blessing me with him even though it didn't seem long enough. I know you have a plan for everything, and I accept whatever grace you offer. Thank you for all my blessings. Amen."

My jaw drops, and I stare at her agape as she stands and brushes the dirt from her knees. I don't even wipe the ridiculous look from my face when she turns my way. Her eyes tell me she understands why I look the way I do, and she smiles a little but says nothing.

"Isabella, I haven't heard you pray since . . . well, since I was observing you at the cabin and you prayed before bed and meals."

"I pray every day, Edward. When I was alone, I did it aloud, but knowing anything I utter can be heard now, I say them to myself."

"You still . . . believe? After what you've gone through, you still have faith?" I cock my head to the side. I haven't believed in God since I became _this_, and when I was human, I hadn't had the chance to draw my own conclusions yet. My parents were devout Catholics, and I was in church with them every Sunday, but I never developed a true belief in an omnipotent being. And then I was turned, my thoughts toward God—if there was one—growing bitter. Surely if there was someone up there looking out for us, He wouldn't allow me to become an undead creature.

"Yes, Edward, I still believe. God doesn't stop being there just because times get difficult. One can't believe in Him only when good things happen."

"But God let me become this. He allowed James to hurt you and take away our child! He gave you a death sentence and an anomaly that keeps me from changing you!"

"But He gave me you and through you, a chance. I have an extended family now, and I know Hannah will be taken care of. I trust all will work out as it was meant to."

"How can it be 'meant' for someone kind and innocent to suffer, while a scum like James is allowed to freely harm others?"

"Let me ask you a question. If everything was perfect and there was no fear, no challenges, no wrongs—if we could all have whatever we wanted simply by wishing it, what kind of world would it be? Oh, at first most people would say a perfect world, but with nothing to strive for, no goal to reach for, we become nothingness. Apathetic and unappreciative."

Something foreign flares inside me. She spoke a kernel of truth I've been dancing around for decades. _I_ was apathetic and unappreciative. I had unlimited money, unlimited time. I couldn't die or feel pain. But I wasn't living until I found purpose, something to strive for, to pursue. Isabella was the catalyst propelling me forward until I felt desire, love, protectiveness . . . selflessness. I've never truly loved another being so much that I would gladly walk through fire for them, would rather die in their place than lose them.

"You're right. That was me until I found you. Until I found the reason for my existence." I cup her face between my hands and kiss her lips softly. "You haven't convinced me, but for the first time, I feel something other than complete disbelief."

"Maybe there's hope for you yet, Edward Masen."

"Maybe there is."

**~*RK*~**

The next morning dawns sunny again. Isabella opens her eyes and smiles at me, her excitement palpable. "She's almost here."

"Who?"

"Hannah. She'll be here soon."

"And how do you know that?" I ask, confounded. She's right; Alice called me during the night to let me know they'd be arriving this morning.

"I can feel her." She rubs a hand over her heart.

I watch from the bed while she dresses and then returns to me. We face each other and gaze into each other's eyes while we wait. I take her hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss her knuckles before nuzzling them against my cheek. Our bond has only grown deeper. I feared the pregnancy and then the loss of our son would drive a wedge between us, but it hasn't. My desire for her is like a white hot need inside me, and it seems she feels the same. Last night she said she couldn't wait until Carlisle gave us the go ahead to make love. When I expressed my surprise, she whispered some things in my ear that pushed me to the limits of my control. Remembering them now causes my cock to harden, and I pull her toward me, slipping my hand up her shirt to fondle a breast which is still swelled due to the pregnancy hormones circulating in her system.

"Oh . . . careful. My nipples are really sensitive. Carlisle said that should subside soon."

"I'm sorry." I touch her there light as a feather, and she moans.

"Yes, like that." Her breath quickens, and she presses closer, wrapping her leg over mine.

Her heart starts to echo in my chest, bringing a sense of euphoria with it. This is something I've missed over the past several days; it seems each time we connect this way, the mate bond becomes even stronger. Every time I think we couldn't get any closer, that I couldn't desire her any more, we attain a new depth. I close my eyes, concentrating on the beating within my chest, and I know I won't survive if she dies. I suspected as much before, but now I know it with every fiber of my being. She brought me to life.

"Isabella." I open my eyes and gaze into hers. "I love you so much. As many words as I know and as long as I've lived, there's no way for me to fully express to you what you mean to me. You're everything."

I lower my mouth to hers, and our lips meet over and over, the heat building slowly. She parts her lips for me, welcoming my tongue inside her warmth. My hand slides off her breast, around her ribs to her back, and I crush her to me, our chests pressed together. Her heart beats faster inside us both, sending tingles spiraling through my being. Breaking away from her lips, I suckle at the tender flesh of her neck, tasting her fragrant skin.

"Edward, I love you so much." Her voice is throaty with passion, and I know we need to slow this down before it gets out of hand.

I roll away from her, turning on my back and breathing hard. "I love you, too. We need to stop this before it goes too far."

"Oh, you're no fun," she teases.

How she can keep her sense of humor through all of this is a testament to her inner strength. No matter what life throws at her, she keeps going and loving and inspiring. Being the broody vampire that I am, I've never been the type to see the bright side of things. Being with Isabella has changed my outlook significantly, although I'd hardly call myself optimistic.

"No fun? I'll show you no fun!"

I tickle her until tears of laughter roll down her cheeks. In between heaving breaths, she declares me to be taking unfair advantage since vampires aren't ticklish. My response is that humans don't have to control mating urges, so I consider us even.

Before I can torture her any further, I hear the sound of a car turn into our driveway.

"Isabella, they're here."

Her eyes widen, all the amusement draining from her face. "Edward . . ." She grabs for my hands. "I'm nervous. What if she doesn't like me?"

"You're her mother."

"But she probably won't remember me. Oh, God . . ."

"Hey . . . get hold of yourself. The worst thing you can do is scare Hannah right now. She's been taken from everything she knows for the second time."

"You're right. It'll be okay." She rushes into the bathroom to blow her nose and splash some water on her face.

By the time the car pulls up in front of the cottage, Isabella is calmer. She holds my hand tightly. The car turns off, and I hear Alice talking to Hannah.

"We're here, sweetie! I have a surprise for you. You've been such a good girl."

"Oh, Nana loves suhpizes!" She has the voice of an angel.

_Edward, is she ready?_

"Yes. Come on in."

Isabella's heart slams against her ribs, but to her credit, she appears outwardly calm. The front door opens and there stands Alice holding the hand of an adorable little girl.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: I hated the way Edward was about their baby in the saga. He looked at it as a monster but failed to see any other side. I had to write this differently, even if they never ended up with a baby. I know a lot of readers don't like certain decisions I've made in this story, but I sincerely thank (most of) you for being polite in your disagreement.**

**Thanks to all who read, rec, and lurk! See you next Tuesday.**

**Love a man in uniform? Write for the SMYP (Show Me Your Patriotism) contest. I'm judging on this one, along with an awesome bunch of ladies. Follow on Twitter (at) SMYPcontest and check out the fanfic page h t t p : / / w w w . fanfiction . Net / u /3982269 / SMYPContest**

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	21. Chapter 21 Home at Last

**A/N: Welcome back, everyone! Ready to meet Hannah? :-)**

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

**~Home at Last~**

**_The soul is healed by being with children. _~English Proverb**

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><p>Jasper hangs around by the car with his head down, reciting battle strategies from his army days. His mood seems oddly somber and broody without being hostile, but I don't have time to think about him right now.<p>

The little girl before us is wearing jeans and a pink shirt with a big flower in the center. Bouncy brown curls frame her cherubic face, and she truly has her mother's soulful eyes. Isabella gasps beside me and drops to her knees so she's at eye level with her daughter.

"Hannah—" Alice starts.

"Mama!" Hannah pulls her hand from Alice's and hurls herself across the room into Isabella's arms.

"Hi, baby. Y-You remember me?"

"Unco Harry and Aunt Mimi show me you all the time!"

"They do?"

"Yah! And they play you, so Nana can hear."

"They must be special people."

"Uh huh!" Hannah chirps. Pulling back, she takes Isabella's face between her chubby hands. "Nana missed you, Mama."

"And I missed you, Hannah Banana!"

Hannah giggles and kisses Isabella's cheek. "Do I live here now?"

"Not quite, baby. Mama is kind of sick, and I need time to get better."

"Oh." Hannah tilts her head but doesn't seem overly concerned.

"You'll stay with your Grandma Sue and Uncle Seth. You can meet them later, okay?"

"'Kay."

"Baby, I want you to meet someone." Isabella looks up at me. "This is Edward."

I crouch beside Isabella so I'm closer to Hannah's height. "Hello, princess."

Big brown eyes meet mine, and she looks me over curiously. Leaving her mother's arms, she inches closer. I'm concerned she might be frightened, so I remain very still. Hannah comes to stand in front of me and looks up into my eyes. She reaches her tiny hand up to rest it on my cheek.

"Edwood special." She smiles shyly. "Nana like."

"Well, thank you. I think you're special, too."

And then something unexpected happens. Hannah moves in closer, going up on tiptoe, and winds her arms around my neck. She rests her head on me with a soft sigh. Cautiously, I bring my arms around her petite body and hug her to me gently.

Isabella's eyes fill with tears, and she smiles at me. Alice's eyes go wide. _I think you've got this._ She winks and then lets herself out the front door quietly.

Hannah smells sweet and innocent, of apple juice and cookies and baby shampoo. Her warmth and acceptance tug at a place deep inside me that I didn't think existed anymore. I feel an immediate bond to this charming little girl, an overwhelming feeling of love and a desire to protect her.

Hannah steps back and smiles. Already, I miss the feeling of her. This creates a conflict inside me. She doesn't even know me; I'm not her father. I have no claim whatsoever to this little girl, and yet I feel . . . almost territorial over her. I'm no longer sure what I think of her living on the Res. They have more right to her than I do, but I feel strangely entitled. My brow furrows as I try to untangle my feelings. Isabella glances at me with concern, and I make a concerted effort to wipe my features smooth.

"Edwood?" Hannah looks up at me with the ageless eyes of a wise old woman rather than those of a guileless child. She waits until our eyes meet and hold before speaking again. "Mama loves Edwood. Do you love my mama?"

"Very much, princess."

"Phew!" Hannah sighs in an exaggerated way that is almost comical. Then her forehead wrinkles up a little. "Is there room for Nana?"

"Where, sweetheart?"

"In here." She puts her tiny hand over where my heart used to beat, and I hear a small gasp from Isabella.

I rest my hand over Hannah's, holding both our hands against my chest. "Oh, yes, little princess. There's a place already set aside just for you."

"Yay!" She pulls away and claps her hands, delighted.

"Hannah, sweetie? How about you stay here with me tonight, and Grandma Sue can come by tomorrow?" Isabella leans over and tucks Hannah's hair behind her ear.

"Yes, Mama." Then she looks between us with her big brown eyes. "Can Nana sleep with Mama?"

"Of course, honey!"

For the rest of the afternoon, I listen and watch as Isabella gets to know her daughter again. They play a silly game called "Go Fish." Hannah doesn't really understand the rules, and the two of them end up in a tickle fight on the living room floor. After they have a lunch of soup and sandwiches, Isabella leads Hannah down toward the river to show her the flowers of hope, both of them bundled up in coats, hats, and gloves. Watching the two of them walking hand in hand would bring tears to my eyes if I could shed them. It's a beautiful sight, and I feel a sharp pang in my chest when I think of our son. I never expected the loss to hurt so much, and I wonder how much deeper Isabella is feeling it than I do.

"Look, Hannah! These are the flowers I was telling you about." Isabella sounds exhilarated, happy, and free as the two of them crouch down over the flowers.

"Wow! Boo-tiful. Nana like."

I keep my distance, but I can't keep my eyes off them. I'm fascinated by their connection to one another, and by the one I feel for Hannah. I'm drawn to her in nearly the same way I was to Isabella—sans the sexual attraction. It's pure and innocent but palpable all the same.

The two of them stand almost as one unit and start walking upstream. The sun glints off their matching mahogany hair, creating fiery highlights. I forget myself and draw too close.

Hannah turns around and gasps. Isabella stops and glances over her shoulder, her eyes widening.

"Oh, my God," she whispers.

"Rainbow!" Hannah yells and starts running my way.

"What is it, princess?"

"Rainbow Edwood! Rainbow Edwood!" She giggles as she throws her arms around my legs.

And I immediately realize my stupid mistake as I stand in a beam of sunlight with little Hannah's arms trapping my legs and Isabella looking me up and down with fascination.

"Oh, shit!" I mutter, too low for human ears before raising my voice. "I'm sorry, Isabella." My eyes meet hers as I back slowly into the shadow of a tree with Hannah still attached to me.

Once she lets go, I sit on the ground with my back against the trunk of the tree and drop my forehead to my knees. How incredibly stupid and careless.

A warm little hand touches my cheek, and I look at Hannah, who puts a finger up to her lips. "Shh . . . Nana keep Edwood's secret."

"You will? Thank you, princess. Nobody's supposed to know about that."

Hannah makes a zipping motion in front of her lips before running off to make some snowballs.

Isabella comes over and sits sideways on my lap, snuggling against my neck. "So that's why you people stay out of the sun."

"'You people'?" I can't help but laugh.

"It's okay, you know. I don't think Hannah will tell anyone, and even if she did, we could always find a way to explain it . . . Mr. Sparkle." Her eyes are filled with amusement.

"_Mr._ _Sparkle_? You wound me." I slip my fingers inside her jacket and tickle her until her cheeks are rosy and she can barely breathe.

Later in the evening, I watch over the two of them as they lie curled into each other on the bed. Their faces are nearly cheek to cheek, fingers entwined, their matching ivory skin and mahogany waves causing a smile to form on my lips. There are no bad dreams; the two of them sleep deeply, never pulling apart. My heart swells with love for them both, and I know I'll do whatever it takes to protect them.

In the morning, after feeding my girls a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit, we head up to the house to see Carlisle. Hannah seems amenable to meeting my mother and father; there's no evidence of the repellence most humans feel in the presence of vampires. _So much like her mother._

Esme crouches down, and smiles when Hannah hugs her. "Hello, Hannah! Would you like to see my greenhouse? Flowers grow in there all year round."

"Yeah! Nana loves flowers."

Esme takes her hand and they head off toward the back of the house. About thirty seconds after they're out of sight, Isabella looks at me apologetically and takes off after them, leaving me alone with Carlisle.

"Son." He nods. _I don't want there to be any awkwardness between us. I'm sorry if I dismissed your concerns about feeding._

"Thank you. Maybe we can discuss that another time." I wait for his acquiescence before I continue, trying to get my thoughts together because I'm not entirely sure how to approach this. "Walk with me for a few minutes?"

"Of course."

We take off through the forest until I'm sure we're far enough away to have complete privacy. I scan the surrounding area for any of the wolves, but we're completely alone. Now that I've dragged him out here, I feel ridiculous. This really isn't a huge secret, but its emergence has left me feeling unsure and off balance which is something I abhor. Carlisle waits patiently while I pace back and forth in the small clearing, wearing a track in the previously undisturbed snow.

"Have you ever heard . . ." My eyes meet his, and I falter. "Father, I feel a . . . connection to Hannah. It's very much like what I feel for Isabella—only completely innocent and platonic. I feel entitled to her. I want to protect her. The thought of her living on the Res no longer sits well with me, although I'll go along with it because I know it's the best thing. I just . . . want to crush her to me and make everything okay."

"Hmm." Carlisle purses his lips, nodding his head.

My pacing ceases abruptly, snow and churned up dirt spraying into the air. "What does 'hmm' mean? Are you hearing what I said?"

"Oh, yes, Edward—loud and clear. You have a mate bond with Hannah."

"No, I don't! That's preposterous and—and disgusting! I told you it's innocent."

Carlisle holds a hand up. "I didn't mean to insinuate it was anything nefarious, Edward. Of course not. You have bonded with her, though. It's not the same as with Isabella, but it's a mate bond just the same. Did you listen to yourself when you explained it to me? You sounded like . . . a father."

"How so?"

"You want to protect her, to make everything okay for her. The most compelling thing you said was you'll let her live at the Res because it's the best option _for her. _Parents often sacrifice what they want for the good of their child."

"Have you ever heard of such a thing?"

"No. Then again, I've never heard of a vampire mating with a human. Have you?" He smiles and pats me on the back.

"What do I do now?"

"I don't see the problem."

"I feel entitled to that child. She's not mine."

"But she is yours, Edward, as surely as Isabella is. Did Hannah feel a connection to you as well?"

My mind drifts back to the way Hannah came right up and touched me, how she said I was special—which brings a smile of pride to my face. "Yes. She came right up to me and touched my face. She also asked if I loved Isabella and then questioned if there was room for her in my heart, too."

"Well, there you go. She felt that connection, too." Carlisle looks delighted, but I'm still unsure about this whole thing and how it will play out.

"I also made a really asinine mistake earlier today." I hang my head, feeling stupid all over again. "Isabella and Hannah walked down by the river, and I watched from a distance to give them privacy. I was so fascinated by the two of them, I forgot I was in the sun."

"Oh. What happened?"

I explain their reactions. Naturally, it doesn't matter that Isabella knows, but children sometimes come out with things.

"How could I be so stupid? It never occurred to me to hide in the shadows."

"Most likely the urge to be yourself in front of them—to be accepted for what you are. Hannah seemed to understand it's a secret. I wouldn't worry over it." Carlisle looks troubled for a moment. "You do realize you're responsible for both of them now. Are you prepared to take that on?"

"Absolutely."

"That means if Isabella doesn't make it . . ."

"I'll be responsible for Hannah for the rest of her natural life. _ Then_ I will off myself."

Carlisle's face twists with dismay for a moment, but he doesn't try to talk me out of it. The thought of living without Esme floats through his thoughts for a moment and the pain is almost more than he can bear. By unspoken agreement, we head back toward the house silently.

When we enter the music room, Hannah and Isabella are sitting at the piano playing _Chopsticks_. When a note goes flat, they both giggle.

"Ladies." I crouch behind the piano bench and put my arms around their shoulders. "May I?"

They make room for me, Hannah moving to Isabella's lap. Placing my fingers on the keys, I play my own version of the little tune and then move on to some other songs I think Hannah will recognize—playing them all with my own flair. Hannah claps her hands, delighted, and Isabella looks just as thrilled. By the time I finish, we're all laughing together.

Rose walks into the room and stares openly. _Jesus. Is Edward actually smiling and laughing?_ And then her eyes come to rest on Hannah. _Oh, how beautiful she is . . . _

I stand up faster than humanly possible, but Hannah just giggles. "Edwood fast, Mama!"

"Rosalie, I'd like to introduce you to the beautiful Hannah."

Unlike me, Rose approaches slowly. "Hello, Hannah. I'm Edward's sister, Rosalie."

"Hello, Rolalie." Hannah's forehead wrinkles. "No, Rosie?"

"It's Rosalie, but Rosie is fine, sweetie."

"R-Ros-alie!" Hannah claps her hands, excited she got the name right.

Carlisle stands by the archway leading to the living room. _Edward, a moment?_

Rosalie takes my place at the piano bench. "I play piano, too. Would you like me to play for you?"

"Yay!"

I join Carlisle in the living room, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. "Son, Sue and Seth are on their way over to meet Hannah. Before she leaves here, we really need a blood sample so I can find out what makes her blood the cure for the affects of the anomaly."

"Oh . . ." I run a hand through my hair. The thought of causing Hannah any pain upsets me. "I don't know, Father."

"I expected you to be torn, Edward, but we really need some of her blood. I'll use a butterfly needle—she'll barely feel it."

"Only if Isabella is okay with it."

While Carlisle gets the supplies, I explain to Isabella, who agrees. I kneel down and call out to Hannah. "Can you come here a minute, princess?"

She comes to me without hesitation, and the smell of sweet innocence envelops me, causing my chest to constrict.

"Yes, Edwood?"

"We need a blood sample from you to see if we can help your mom get well. My father is a doctor, so he knows just how to do it. It would be a little tiny pinch right here . . ." I tap lightly in the fold of her arm ". . . and will all be over really fast. What do you think?"

"Sure! Nana wants to help Mama get better." Hannah looks down shyly. "Edwood? Can I sit on your lap to do the blood thing?"

"Of course, princess."

We settle on the couch in the living room, and Carlisle places everything he needs out in plain sight where Hannah can easily see it. After tying on a tourniquet, he swabs her arm with an alcohol pad, and she giggles. "That's cold, like Edwood's fingers!"

"Yes, a little chilly." Carlisle holds up the butterfly needle. "This is a thin little needle, and you shouldn't feel more than a slight sting, okay?" He smoothly slides the needle under her skin, and she doesn't even flinch. He takes three tubes of blood, releasing the tourniquet just as the third tube starts to fill. "All done, Hannah! You were a great patient."

"Does Nana get a lollipop? The doctor always gives me a lolly when I'm a good patient."

"We don't have any lollipops, but I think maybe—"

"Of course we do!" Alice skips into the room with a rainbow swirled lollipop.

"Ooooh . . ." Hannah's eyes light up, and she accepts the confection. "Thank you, Aunt Ali!"

Hannah goes back to the piano with Isabella, Rosalie, and Alice while I head down to the lab with Carlisle. Esme stays upstairs to keep a lookout for Sue.

"Okay, first I'd like to see what happens when we introduce Hannah's blood to a Petri dish with your venom and Isabella's blood."

Carlisle places a drop of Isabella's blood next to my venom, and it immediately begins attacking. When he extracts a drop of Hannah's blood from one of the tubes and drops it into the mix, it immediately neutralizes the destruction. Not only that, but her blood reverses the damage.

When he places Hannah's blood in with my venom, her blood creates a barrier of protection around it that repels Isabella's blood, which simply surrounds it peacefully.

"Fascinating! There's still an attraction to your venom, but Hannah's blood provides a buffer of safety that keeps the destruction from initiating. I can't wait to run some tests on her blood. Edward, this could be really important."

"How so? We can't drain blood out of a child."

"No, but if I can isolate the component, I may be able to come up with a vaccine."

"How does that save Isabella?"

"It doesn't, but it may appease the Volturi. It also may help us understand the anomaly better."

Our conversation is interrupted by the arrival of company. I hear Sue and Seth, along with an unexpected visitor—Billy Black.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Hannah's home and has instincts only a perceptive child can harness. Thoughts? Theories? FYI: Edward's bond with Hannah is strictly a fatherly bond, most likely formed because she's the daughter of his mate. There's nothing squicky or imprint-like about it. 'KK?  
><strong>

**Sadly, there are a lot of things happening around the fandom right now, things that split it apart. There are also issues we're coming together on, such as the pulling of fics from fanfail. Please join together and support the ban on FFn for forty eight hours from June 8th to 10th. Twitter hashtag #NOFFN Are you unhappy that your favorite fics are being deleted off the site? Have your fics been pulled or have you been harassed by some ridiculous group of nuts? _Stand together and be counted. _And please let fanfic know how displeased you are._  
><em>**

**If my stories get pulled, they will be on my blog. I've also joined the new site where many authors are heading in droves as they leave FFn in the dust. An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown (dot)org users / SaritaDreaming**

**Thanks to everyone who reads, recs, and lurks this story! See you next Tuesday. (I hope)  
><strong>

**Follow me on Twitter: (at)SaritaDreaming or (at)SarahAisling**

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	22. Chapter 22 Shelter

**A/N: Welcome back, awesome readers!**

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

**~Shelter~**

**What feeling is so nice as a child's hand in yours?**

**So small, so soft and warm, like a kitten**

**huddling in the shelter of your clasp.**

**~ Marjorie Holmes**

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><p>By the time Carlisle and I come upstairs, Esme has Sue and Seth settled on the couch in the living room. Billy Black's wheelchair is positioned next to the love seat. He glances up at me appraisingly, but his mind isn't easily read like the last time we met.<p>

Carlisle, ever the diplomat, makes the rounds, asking after family and making small talk.

"I'll get Isabella and Hannah," I say as I leave the room.

Rose's fingers hit a sour note when I announce our company. Isabella seems both excited and nervous. Hannah looks up at me with big brown eyes full of trust, and I kneel before her.

"Listen, princess, there are some people we'd like you to meet. Would that be all right?"

"Okay." Hannah hops off the piano bench and places her hand in mine.

"Isabella?"

When we enter the room with my girls each holding one of my hands, the conversation stops and all heads turn our way, but it's Billy Black I'm interested in. He has the ear of the elders on the Res, a lot of influence over the Quileutes. His keen brown eyes take us in, and he focuses on Hannah's hand, which rests easily in mine.

"Hmph," is all he says. His mind is still guarded, so I'm not sure what he means by this noncommittal mutter.

Carlisle smiles in an effort to keep things pleasant. "Hannah, I'd like you to meet your grandmother and Uncle Seth." He gestures to Sue and Seth then faces Billy. "And this is Mr. Black from the Reservation, where some of your family lives."

Hannah looks around the room, and then she steps in front of me and raises both arms in the air. "Edwood, hold Nana?"

Without hesitation, I scoop her up and rest her on my right hip. This allows her a clear view of those in the room from a safe perch. I can understand a little one feeling a bit overwhelmed in a room full of strangers. I also realize for the first time that her mind is as silent to me as Isabella's. Not surprising.

Again, my eyes stray to Billy Black, sensing winning him over is somehow key here. He watches me just as closely.

"Hello, Hannah. I'm your grandma—Isabella's mother," Sue greets from where she sits on the couch.

"Hey, Hannah!" Seth smiles brightly and waves. "I'm your Uncle Seth."

"Hi, Gamma and Unco Seth," Hannah says shyly and rests her head on my shoulder.

Isabella lets go of my hand and comes to stand in front of me with her hand on Hannah's cheek. "Baby, Mama's sick right now, so while I'm trying to get well, your grandma offered to let you live with her and Uncle Seth. Would that be okay?"

"Edwood, put Nana down?" Hannah whispers in my ear, and I set her down.

The moment she leaves my arms, I feel bereft and wonder how I'm going to handle having her live somewhere I can't go. Billy gazes at me with great interest, and I feel almost as though he can read _my_ mind.

Hannah wanders over to stand before Seth, looking into his eyes for a moment before moving in front of Sue. She grasps Seth's left hand and caresses Sue's cheek, her delicate lids fluttering shut. There's a pregnant silence in the room, as everyone waits for her reaction. She abruptly pulls her hands back, and says, "Okay. Nana go with Gamma and Unco Seth." She walks over to Billy and grabs his hand. "Nana has to see Mama and Edwood _a lot_."

Billy looks down at Hannah with a small smile, a mixture of awe and affection on his craggy features. "That's a deal, little lady."

The same thought races through all the minds in the room: _how did Hannah know Billy would have any influence over how often we can see her?_

The spell is broken as the front door opens and Alice enters with an armful of Hannah's belongings. "Seth, do you think you can help me load the car?"

"Sure, no problem." Seth follows Alice outside.

Hannah returns to me, holding her arms up. Once she's back in my arms, she rests her warm little palm on my cheek. "Don't worry, Edwood. Nana always yours."

"I know, princess." I kiss the top of her head, inhaling the sweet, innocent scent of baby shampoo, a smell I'm growing to love. A sickening pang shoots through my chest as I hand her off to Isabella to say goodbye.

Isabella hugs Hannah tight, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. "Mama loves you so much, baby. I'm going to try my best to get better soon. You might have to stay with your grandma for quite a while, though. I'll come see you all the time, and you can come here to visit me and Edward, okay?"

"Don't cry, Mama. I love you." Hannah kisses Isabella's cheek, her chubby little fingers tangling in her hair.

Alice and Seth return, announcing all of Hannah's things have been loaded into the car. After a tearful goodbye, Sue, Seth, and Hannah leave. Rose is nowhere to be seen, Alice has slipped away, and Carlisle and Esme offer their goodbyes to Billy. Which leaves me and Isabella alone with him as an awkward silence descends over the room.

"Isabella, your little girl is just precious." Billy speaks first, an offering of sorts.

"Thank you, Uncle Billy. This is so hard for us, but I'm glad if she can't stay with me she'll be on the Res."

"Yeah, about that." Billy's eyes meet mine. "Edward, I sense how uncomfortable it is for you to let that child go—to have her live on the Res where you can't reach her."

"Extremely difficult," I admit freely. Why try to hide it?

"The issue's been discussed at length between the elders on the Res, and they've given me final say over the decision."

"What decision is that?" I ask carefully. Flickers of a group of men seated around a rough wooden table carved with symbols rush through his mind. The conversation grew quite heated at one point, but they finally conceded to Billy and agreed they would go along with whatever he decided.

"My job here today was to see what the story was between you and Hannah, Edward. You've obviously bonded with the child, yes?"

"Very much so." Again, why hide what he's been able to plainly see?

"We understand the bonding all too well. We recognize Isabella as your mate. Why then shouldn't we recognize your bond with Hannah? We know with our people it's painful to keep imprints apart, and I can see it's painful for you to be away from Hannah. The fact that you put her needs ahead of your own comfort says a lot."

"Thank you for recognizing our bond. It came as a great surprise to me, but it was strong and immediate."

"That's why we will allow you on our land. _ Only_ you, with a Quileute escort. No other vampires will be granted access. One of us will show you the rendezvous site, which is on our eastern border halfway between here and First Beach. You will be allowed to go to from our border to Sue's house and back."

Isabella flings herself across the room and hugs Billy, while I swallow the huge lump that forms in my throat.

"Thank you, Billy. I understand how difficult it must be for your people to accept even one vampire on your land. We're very grateful and will follow your rules explicitly."

"I know you will, Edward. When you want to visit Hannah, just contact one of the wolves on patrol. They will all be instructed not to give you a hard time. Now, if one of you could get someone to drive me home, that would be much appreciated."

Carlisle offers to drive Billy to the Quileute border.

Isabella hops on my back and we walk slowly back to the cottage. I'm still marveling over the Quileutes making this exception for me. I know it won't go over big with the young and volatile pack. Even though Billy assured me there would be no issues, I'm not so confident that Jacob or Paul won't decide to hassle me—they seem to be the most aggressive and out of control wolves.

Isabella is lost in her own thoughts, too. Her cheek rests between my shoulder blades, and my shirt is damp with her drying tears. When we get home, she curls up in the living room to read. I check on a few things and then pretend to be on the computer while I'm really watching her. I never get tired of looking at her or trying to figure her out, but I hide it because I don't want to make her self-conscious.

Late in the evening, Isabella leaves me to get ready for bed. The water runs in the bathroom as she performs her nightly rituals. I hear the sheets slide against her skin as she gets into bed.

"Edward," she calls quietly, knowing I'll hear.

When I enter the bedroom, I'm greeted by the sight of her creamy skin against wine silk sheets. She's completely naked; her damp mahogany locks are spread across the pillow, and her ivory skin glows pink from a recent shower. My eyes roam over her body hungrily, and I feel my cock stirring.

"Isabella . . ." I avert my gaze. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes. You're not on this bed with me, naked and ready." She leans over and tugs open the drawer of the nightstand where a pile of condoms from Emmett's famous "Party Pack" are strewn haphazardly, and my eyes are drawn back to her. She snags one between her index and middle fingers and levels me with a come-hither stare. "I need you, Edward."

I've been so good. I've been everything a man is supposed to be when the love of his life loses their baby: concerned, loving, understanding, patient. I put aside my manly needs while she was healing, while she was upset over Hannah. I've tried not to think dirty thoughts when she's in the shower or showing a little too much skin. I've held her when the inevitable nightmares come, ignoring the call in my loins to ravish her.

But her blatant invitation, her beckoning naked body, the scent of her growing arousal curling up my nostrils sets me aflame with want. In mere seconds, my clothes are in a shredded pile on the floor and my naked body covers hers. I lean on my elbows and look down into her beautiful face.

"Isabella, are you absolutely sure? I thought you might have reservations after . . . what happened."

"Reservations about being with you?" Her eyes widen and pain fills them. "My wanting you has never been in question, Edward. Why didn't you tell me you were concerned?" Her fingertips brand my face.

I place a gentle kiss on her lips. "I didn't want to burden you."

"But we're a team, right? You can always come to me. I know you'd expect me to come to you."

"I'm sorry. You're absolutely right."

"And, Edward?" She waits for our eyes to meet. "I'm sure."

It's all the tinder that's needed to ignite the passion inside me. When I lower my face to hers, she slides her fingers into my hair and curls them tight. Our mouths meet in passionate kisses that soon give way to a bold exploration of her mouth when she parts her lips under mine and allows my tongue inside to play. It's been too long since I touched her this way; my hands itch to explore every dip and crevice of her body. She's finger candy for me. Before I even consider rolling on the condom, I bring her to orgasm with just my fingers playing her body, slipping inside her silken heat to coax her exactly where I want her to go. She breathes out the sweetest sounds and is so responsive, I know exactly when she's about to come.

I take her there again with my mouth, kissing my way over her skin with excruciating slowness until my lips nuzzle against her sex. The scent of her arousal coats my nose and throat before I even press my tongue against the pulsing bundle of nerves between her legs. Using two fingers to part her, I make love to her with my tongue. She coos so sweetly, leading to breathless gasps, and eventually cries out with abandon as she comes for a second time.

Kissing my way back up her body, I bring my lips to hers and plunge my tongue into her hot mouth so she can taste herself on me. She moans around my tongue, and her heart beats faster.

Grabbing the packet, which slid out of her fingers while I was pleasuring her, I sit back a moment, ripping open the foil square with my teeth and rolling the condom over my throbbing cock. For a moment I worry that I've worn her out, but her eyes are wild and dilated with arousal. She hasn't had enough of me yet.

"I love you so much," I whisper raggedly as I nudge her thighs open wider and sink into her.

All the breath leaves me as I feel her heart start beating in my chest as I once again experience the intense heat of my cock encased deep inside her. Her fingers dig at my shoulders as I rock my hips against her. And I need more, so I toss her legs over my shoulders, the new angle allowing a much deeper penetration. Her sharp cry confirms how good this feels for her, too.

Her hands cup my face as I thrust into her over and over again.

"I love you, I love you, I love you . . ." She starts chanting the words, her lids fluttering closed. She lowers her hands, clenching fistfuls of the sheets in her fingers, and her head thrashes back and forth as a deeper flush spreads over her creamy skin.

I feel her body clench around me, and a deep growl rumbles in my chest as I let go. I have to turn my face away so I don't sink my teeth into her pulsing jugular. It's more difficult for me because I've made it a practice to combine sex with blood play. In my mind, I know this, but I still need to purposely separate the two.

I'd love to remain inside her while she sleeps, but my venom will break down the condom soon. After kissing her deeply a few more times, I pull out and roll onto my back.

"Blue?" Isabella giggles. "What flavor is that?"

I glance down at my still-hard cock, which is indeed covered by a blue condom, and laugh. "Blueberry maybe? You're the one who chose it." I slide my arm under her shoulders and roll her toward me until our chests press together.

We lie there in silence for a time, cuddling. I let go of her only to pull the down comforter over us to keep her warm. I don't even bother trying to place a barrier between us because I already know she'll protest. She never feels as if we can be close enough, and I understand the sentiment.

"You and your magic . . . everything wears me out," she says around a yawn.

I smirk. "Sleep, my love. You need to keep up your strength." I place my lips against her forehead and leave them there until I hear the soft snores that let me know she's asleep.

An hour later, I hear Jasper's thoughts out in the woods. For a moment I'm surprised, but then I realize he's broadcasting so loudly because he's upset. I slip my arm out from under Isabella and leave the bed, tucking the comforter around her before pulling some clothes on.

"Edward . . ." she murmurs, resting a hand under her cheek. Her lips curve into a smile, and I rub my index finger over them lightly.

"I love you, Isabella. Sweet dreams."

I move to the sun room because I can hear Jasper's thoughts in the woods on that side of the cottage. He's about a half mile away. I cock my head and try to tune in on his mutterings.

_So glad the girl is gone. Her scent is maddening! I would never . . . never want to do that again. Fucking Maria and her deceiving ways. That taste never leaves. I can taste it even now . . . the blood of a true innocent._

Hannah's face floats through his thoughts, the blue veins running through her translucent skin, little tributaries coming and going from her . . . _succulent little heart._

"Oh, fuck no. You are _not _thinking about my Hannah that way."

I can't tamp down the growl that rips from my throat. I break the handle on the sun room door in my rush to get outside and make a beeline for Jasper. I'm so done with his shit.

The night is clear, stars dotting the midnight sky, and the cool air whips through my hair as I run full out, intent on reaching him quickly. Jasper is so deep inside his thoughts of drinking the blood of a long ago child, he doesn't hear me coming until I lunge through the air with a snarl. We land on the ground with a dull boom; I press my knee against his chest and wrap my hands around his traitorous neck.

"You sick fuck!"

Jasper's black eyes meet mine, and they're full of hatred. He bares his teeth at me and hisses.

_Keep the fuck out of my head. You think you know so much about me, but you know _nothing_. Mr. I-have-it-so-easy. The Golden Boy, apple of Carlisle's fucking eye. What's so special about you?_

"I don't give a fuck about any of that. You dare even think about Hannah that way? I'll kill you."

_I'd like to see you try . . . _brother.

I hear Alice in the distance. She went hunting alone because she had yet another disagreement with Jasper. And now she sees, she knows. Her mind shrieks at me.

_Edward, no! Please don't do this!_

"I'm sorry, Ali," I murmur.

Anger and jealousy envelop me rather suddenly. It's so vile and hate-filled that I'm paralyzed with it.

And that's all the opportunity Jasper needs.

He's been living under the weighty pall of his emotions and still managing to function. But I falter, trying to assimilate his shit along with my own burning anger over his thoughts about Hannah.

Jasper pushes a jolt of his raw emotion into me, and I almost black out under the massiveness of it. Before I have time to realize what he's up to, he bucks me off his body and we're rolling over the snow covered ground in a tangle of limbs.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Oh, you know what's coming next, right? A 'splosion. Thoughts, theories, opinions?**

**Thanks to everyone who reads, recs, and lurks this story! See you next Tuesday.**

**If my stories should disappear, they will be on my blog. I've also joined the new site where many authors are heading in droves as they leave FFn in the dust. An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**

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	23. Chapter 23 Yaw, Pitch, and Roll

**A/N: Welcome to the Masen-Cullen smackdown! Enjoy. Some answers you guys have been bugging me for are in this chapter. **

**A chance to pummel Jasper to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. Much thanks for all their feedback and encouragement.**

**A chance to comfort Edward after battle to my awesome betas, wmr1601 and Katmom, who wield their sparkly reds for me. And a hearty welcome to Sue (chayasara) who has braved betaing for this very demanding and spoiled author.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

**~Yaw, Pitch, and Roll~**

**_When anger rises, think of the consequences ~ _Confucius **

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><p>Jasper fights dirty. He gorges on his poison tipped emotions and pumps them into me rapid fire. In order to protect my mind from the vile images in his, I must shield myself from his thoughts—which means I have no idea where he plans to strike next. I'm fighting blind with a trained soldier—one that despises me.<p>

We roll over and over, slamming into a tree which topples and takes two more down with it. Jasper's fist smashes into my face, and I feel my skin crack apart. It begins to heal almost as fast as it opens, but he's already pummeling the other side of my face and grabbing for my neck.

I slip out from under him, lashing out with an elbow as I go, and there's a crunch as his jaw shatters. Ten seconds later, it's whole again. We continue on this way, punishing each other for every ugly thought, word, or deed over the years.

It doesn't matter that I can't read his mind; white hot anger blows through me whenever I remember his thoughts of drinking Hannah's blood, of suckling on her still-pumping heart. I don't give a shit if he hates himself for it, and I don't care how Maria tempted him in the past.

He gets out from under me and slams his foot square in the middle of my chest, crushing my sternum. I gag for a moment before it heals.

"Fuck you." He lets out a feral snarl, snapping his teeth close to my face. "And _you_ stay out of this!" he bellows up at the treetops where Alice must be perched.

I haven't been able to hear or sense her because I'm too wrapped up in my anger, Jasper's emotions, and my struggle to match him blow for blow.

When he's distracted for the second he looks up to yell at her, I move in on him. Grabbing his wrist, I spin around behind him, taking his arm with me at an impossible angle. A loud crack accompanies the rending of his arm as it separates at the shoulder. With a vicious snarl, I give it one final jerk, and it severs completely. Jasper screams in pain, and his flannel shirt is wet with venom leaking from his empty arm socket. I toss the arm up in the trees where I think Alice is before slamming Jasper to the ground.

"I'll still take you, Edward—even with one arm!" He struggles madly beneath me.

I pin him with a knee on his chest, but one arm or not, I'm not foolish enough to think I can hold him down for long. I just need a moment to let him know what the deal is. I'd rather not have to kill him, but I will if I have to.

"Jasper, I don't know what your big problem is with me. I don't really give a damn, either. I just need to make sure you know I will do _anything_ for Isabella and Hannah. That includes using you as tinder for a bonfire. If you pose a threat to Hannah or Isabella in any way, I will end you."

Our eyes meet, black on black, our stare going on for over a minute. He needs to know I mean this. I know it would tear apart my family if I took him from Alice, but Jasper has been an unknown quotient for a long time. When I had no mate to worry over, no Hannah, I let it be. Now I'm scared of what his instability might bring down upon us.

"I will do anything to protect that child, Jasper, to protect my mate. If you're a threat, you must be eliminated."

Alice wails from the treetop, and I hear her feet hit the ground a second later. Instead of coming toward us, she runs in the other direction. She's sensed Carlisle and Rose heading our way and has decided to stop them. In her mind, things are still unsure, but she's convinced Jasper and I need to have this out.

Finally, Jasper closes his eyes, most of the fight draining from his body. "I know."

"What will it be?" I ask coldly. I'm fully prepared to do what needs to be done.

"I wouldn't . . ." Jasper shakes his head, and his intense shame rolls over me.

"I saw it in your mind, _felt_ your hunger . . . the way you coveted her heart." The growl low in my throat is not meant to intimidate him; I have no control over it or over the urge to tear his head off that begins to fill me.

A strangled sound, that is half sob and half scream, lodges in Jasper's throat. His eyes open, and the intensity of his stare silences me. I wait for his response, unwilling to back down even a little. Jasper swallows back a mouthful of venom, and I fight not to see the images that stimulated its production. I'm hanging by a thread, so close to snapping his neck so I can be done with this.

"Edward." Jasper sounds like a desperate and thirsty man out in the desert. The gold and black of his irises are in a power struggle, morphing, flowing, changing rapidly. "I won't touch her. I drove all the way here in that close space with her. I could have had her any time on the trip here."

I can't contain another growl, but I force myself to remain still. "Go on."

"What Maria did to me was . . . unimaginable. It was a power play—she wanted to completely break me so I would follow her anywhere. She surprised me that night, ripped open the child's jugular. I was repulsed, but when the spray hit my lips . . . Edward, I couldn't stop. And then Maria cracked the girl's chest open and tore the still-beating heart from her body and raised it to my lips. The sweetest blood is there . . ." His eyes look haunted. "It's decadent and full-bodied, like the finest wine."

"Shut up!" I yell in his face. "Just . . . stop." I rub a hand over my face, trying to shake off the images. I can almost taste the blood of that little girl—hell, I've _tasted_ Hannah's blood. I know how sweet it is.

"I wouldn't." Jasper's voice is stronger, insistent.

"Why not?"

"Because that little girl still haunts me all these years later. The taste was indescribable—but at what cost? My soul? My sanity?"

I sit back on my heels, slackening my hold on Jasper. At this point, even one-armed, he could overthrow me. I can feel his bone weary fatigue, how he suffers and struggles with his past. I've done some shitty things, made mistakes when I was learning control, but the few indiscretions couldn't possibly stack up against the sheer number of innocents Jasper has slaughtered. I know he's trying to rein in his guilt right now because once, twenty years ago, he unleashed the full weight of it on me. I nearly went mad and spent a month wandering the mountains because I was afraid I'd drink anyone who crossed my path—such was the extent of the thirst that was thrust upon me.

"Let's get that arm reattached." I extend my hand, helping him up.

I fetch his arm out of the tree, and when I return, Jasper is already shirtless. Once again, I'm treated to the sight of the pale crescents that crowd his torso. And now he'll have yet one more scar across the top of his left shoulder where I ripped his arm off.

We start the process of reattaching his arm. In about an hour, it should be completely healed with the exception of the venom scars; there's nothing to be done about those. Jasper pulls his shirt back on and sits against the base of a tree with a grimace. I join him there, and we sit in silence for a while.

"I'm sorry about your arm," I offer.

"What the fuck?" He waves a hand in the air. "I've got so many scars—what's one more?"

"Why do you despise me so much?" I have to know, have to ask at this moment when we could almost be real brothers—or at least friends—hanging out under a tree.

He's silent for a while before he answers. "I don't, Edward. I despise myself mostly."

"Why?"

"Because I allowed Maria to fool me, to use me. Because I lack the control that you have. I could never drink from a human and leave them alive, let alone do it without them realizing it. And Carlisle—he'd never say it, but I felt his emotions, saw it in his eyes: _Why can't you be more like Edward?_"

I shake my head with a short laugh. "No. Why would he want you to be like me? He definitely doesn't approve of my lifestyle."

"Carlisle can't help who he is or what he believes. Whatever he might say to the contrary, he admires your control, and you're the benchmark he compares everyone to. I could never measure up, and that's why I always baited you. I just wanted to prove that you weren't so damn perfect."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. If it was anyone but Jasper, I'd dismiss it immediately. Could there be some truth to what he's saying? I've heard humans claim that often difficult father-son relations are fueled by the father's unrealistic expectations of the son, his desire for his child to be more than he is. Is this the piece I'm missing with Carlisle? Does he look at me as his true son and hold others against me when deciding how they measure up?

"And then there's Alice . . ." Jasper laughs bitterly.

"Alice? What does she have to do with any of this?"

He shoots me a dark look before looking up to the sky. "Alice also favors you."

"There's never been anything romantic between us, Jas."

"I know." He holds up a hand. "Alice compares me to you, too. She'd never say it, of course, but she wishes I had your control. She worries all the time that I'll lose it. What she doesn't realize is her lack of faith in me is devastating. And even though she doesn't approve of _your_ eating habits, she's still so willing to support you."

"And she doesn't support you?"

"Of course she does, but it's different. With me, it's like I'm the alcoholic his wife watches all the time, expecting him to slam back a drink any moment. She doesn't believe I can do this, thinks it's only a matter of time before I fuck up. It's a shadow that hangs over us all the time—you just happened to add a little acid to the mix when you came back."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"Edward, I've never hated you. I wanted to _be_ you, for so many reasons. To have your control, to have Alice's faith and support . . . to have Carlisle's."

All the anger I've felt toward Jasper deflates. Imagine suspecting your mate and mentor don't believe in you. I try to picture how I would feel if Isabella didn't fully support me, and a hollow feeling opens in my chest—just at the very _thought_. How much worse is it for Jasper?

"I don't even know what to say."

"What's to say, bro? I'm sorry if my anger gets the best of me sometimes. It's a defense mechanism." He shrugs his shoulders, looking off in the distance.

"You need to talk to Ali about this. I can sense the rift between you two, and it's bigger than ever. I thought . . . when I left things would get better."

"You? What have you got to do with her lack of faith in me?"

"You were so hostile to her, Jas. It seemed related to me. In fact, it was one of the issues that precipitated me leaving the family—I wanted the two of you to work things out. It's why I didn't visit and rarely called."

Jasper's head swings my way, and his eyes are wide and surprised. "You did that for us?"

"I mean, I was leaving anyway—because Carlisle demanded I follow his lifestyle—but I would have kept in closer touch. Ali's your mate, and I was alone . . . so I figured mates should take precedence over a lone, broody vampire." I smile sadly at him.

"Promise you won't do that again—to the family. You have no idea what a chasm your absence opened. None of us have been the same."

I swallow around a lump in my throat. If one of the others said this, I could believe they were blowing smoke, but Jasper has every reason to _want_ me out of the picture. Our eyes meet, and he watches me expectantly.

"I can't do that, Jas. I can't promise anything. Isabella and Hannah are my life, my heart. My only concern is for them, and I don't think Carlisle will want me around once I go back to . . ." I hesitate, not wanting to mention feeding on humans to Jasper. "Well, when I do my own thing."

"Try, okay? Don't shut us out again. You have no idea how it destroyed Ali. It was just another bone of contention between us. She suffered and mooned over losing you, and again, it just left me feeling more betrayed. Here I was, following the lifestyle and doing everything their way, and she was lamenting over the bad boy."

"Shit. That sucks. I thought I was doing you a favor."

"Nah. Even when you were gone, your shadow loomed over the entire family." Jasper glances over at me, a sly smile on his face. "_Golden Boy_."

"Don't call me that!" I shove his shoulder.

"Why not? It's true." He shoves me back.

We end up wrestling on the ground—like real brothers this time.

**~*RK*~**

I move stealthily up the hall to the bedroom, just as dawn is breaking over the horizon. Isabella is sideways on the bed, her legs tangled up in the sheets. I smirk to myself—she could never sleep in a twin bed or she'd be on the floor more often than not. I sit on the rug beside the bed and stroke her hair, just enjoying the peace of being in her presence.

A heaviness that I wasn't even aware existed inside me has loosened. The confrontation with Jasper was much needed but also left me pleasantly surprised. The rift between Jasper and Alice is sad, but I'm hoping they work things out—that our entire family can find a way to heal. I have no plans to change my feeding habits, but I do miss them and would like to keep in touch. I realize it might be necessary to stay very close to the area because of Hannah, and Isabella might very well decide to adopt Carlisle's lifestyle. Whatever she decides, I'll abide by.

"Edward?" Isabella's sleep laced voice is a welcome sound.

"Good morning."

"Why are you sitting on the floor?"

"Because you took up the entire bed."

"Sorry."

"Don't be." I smile softly, caressing her cheek. She grounds me like nothing and no one else in this world can.

Isabella rolls over and sits up, scratching her fingers through her hair. "What's wrong, Edward?"

"Nothing."

"Right. Tell me what happened."

While she stretches, dresses, and runs a brush through her hair, I tell her about Jasper. Naturally, I leave out the part about Hannah; Isabella doesn't need anything else to worry over. After speaking with Jasper and getting a taste of what he's been through, I know he'll never lay a finger on Hannah.

She sits on a stool at the counter while I administer her injection and then get her breakfast ready. She hasn't said much, and I lean on the counter, watching her mouth as she chews on a piece of melon. A bit of juice dribbles from the corner of her lip, and I can't resist moving in to lick it off. It tastes terrible, but I don't notice because I'm too busy pressing my lips against hers, coaxing her into a heated make-out session right there in the kitchen. Something inside me needs to touch her, feel her, kiss her . . . hold her tight. Maybe it's knowing how far apart Jasper and Alice have grown even though they're mates; I never want anything to come between Isabella and me.

Her hands slide up over my shoulders to caress my neck, and her legs wrap around my waist as I lift her from the stool. Turning us, I press her lightly against the wall beside the refrigerator. I kiss up the side of her neck and nibble along her jaw until our lips meet again. Her fingers claw at my hair, and she whimpers softly, pressing her pelvis forward to grind on me.

"Mm-mm, Edward . . ." she whispers breathlessly ". . . I want you."

"Is that why you wore a skirt today? So I could do this . . ." I slide a hand up her bare thigh and rip her panties off.

"Oh!"

I slip two fingers between us, caressing her silken heat. After the emotions of last night, I have to force myself to go slow and remember she's human—for now. The thought of her unbreakable and evenly matched with me causes my cock to twitch. Pulling my hand away from her warmth, I unzip my pants and she frees me from their confines, caressing me gently. I slip a condom out of my back pocket and tear it open. Isabella rolls it on and then wraps her hand around my cock to guide me inside her. I push all the way in, gripping her ass to pull her in closer, and she gasps, gripping my hair in her fists and mashing her lips against mine.

Our lovemaking is fast and intense—and piña colada scented.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: How do we all feel now that we know what Jasper's damage is? I'm delighted that so many of you came out of lurkdom to say hello! Feedback is sweet and satisfying like a bath with Edward—or a romp against the kitchen wall. **

**Pick a flavor contest: Choose the next flavor Edward will grab from Emmett's Party Pack and get a special personal teaser of the chapter your flavor appears in and credit for sheathing Edward in it.**

**Thanks to everyone who reads, recs, and lurks this story. The next chapter will most likely post two weeks from now.**

**If my stories should disappear, they will be on my blog. Most of them are also on Twilighted. I've also joined the new site where many authors are heading in droves as they leave FFn in the dust. An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**

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	24. Chapter 24 Alarming Revelations

**A/N: Thanks for all the flavas you guys submitted for Emmett's Party Pack! Stay tuned... **

**Thanks and Edward licks to my awesome preaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable feedback and friendship.**

**I treasure my betas, wmr1601, Katmom, and Sue (chayasara), more than I can say. These ladies are beyond compare. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

****~**Alarming Revelations**~** **

_**There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic,**_

_**nor popular, but he must take it because his conscience tells him it is right.  
><strong>_

_****** Martin Luther **_

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><p>We walk along the river, hand in hand. Isabella seems stronger today, but a bit on the quiet side. I suppose dropping my bomb about Jasper and then ravishing her against the kitchen wall might have something to do with it.<p>

I slow my steps, turning her to face me once we come to a stop. She smiles up at me innocently, and I rub my thumb across her bottom lip. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, Isabella? Talk to me."

"Oh, where to start! You may have infinite room in_ your_ head to handle all the stimulus and information, but I still have a lame human brain to work with, you know."

"Have I overwhelmed you too much? Should I have kept my night with Jasper to myself?"

"No, not at all. I want to share everything about your life. I'm just saying it might take me a while to process things."

"That sounds fair."

The day is overcast, but the temperature is mild. Isabella's face is flushed a lovely shade of pink, and her eyes gleam. Between Seth's contribution of blood and Carlisle's Neupogen substitute, she appears to be in better health and has been able to take longer walks. Now that Hannah is home, and we have a sample of her blood, Carlisle can work harder on a vaccine in addition to continuing his work on a cure. Things seem to be looking up, and I feel hopeful that I'll be able to change her before the leukemia takes her from me.

Filled with a sense of hope I've never experienced before, I grab her up in my arms and spin us around and around. Isabella giggles and squeals with abandon.

"Edward!" Her breathless voice is warmth against my ear, and her arms are wrapped tightly around me. "What's going on?"

As we come to a stop, I put her down but hold her close against me. "I'm just happy. I feel like things are looking up—confident that Carlisle will find a cure so I can change you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'm getting a little chilly, and it's about time for me to eat lunch. How about we head back?"

"My lady?" I turn and crouch down so Isabella can climb on my back and head back to the cottage.

While she's stirring some soup in a pot on the stove, she finally admits how hopeful she is that I'll be able to turn her and also starts talking about recent events. She never fails to amaze me with her almost Zen-like presence. So many injustices have been done to her, and yet she remains a positive force. I'm ashamed of the negative way I've often viewed the world—in many ways still do view the world. She doesn't exactly believe things are all hearts, flowers, and rainbows but has a strong belief things will work out and is always grateful for what she is given. I'm still uncomfortable with the subject of God and faith, but I suspect her religion may play a huge part in her ability to have such a sunny outlook in the direst of circumstances.

"So, you have a connection to Hannah that's like our connection . . . but more fatherly?" Isabella asks me this while facing the stove, so I'm not sure if the thought disturbs her or not.

"Yes. It's definitely fatherly, nothing inappropriate. Carlisle believes it's because you're my mate and she's your child."

"And if for some reason . . . I die?" Her body is hunched over the pot of soup, almost curling in on itself, and her shoulders quake with tension.

"I pledge to watch over her for the rest of her natural life." When I give my word about Hannah, Isabella visibly relaxes and lets out a long breath.

"Thank you. I know they would look out for her on the Res, but it's you I trust—and Hannah trusts. She was so drawn to you, Edward. She senses what you are to us." She finally turns to face me, and her eyes shine with a film of tears.

"What is it that I am?" I ask softly, coming around to her side of the counter to caress her face in my palm.

"You're everything we need." She traps my hand against her face and leans into it. "I love you so much."

I take her in my arms and kiss her until popping sounds indicate her soup is boiling away. I carry the tray with her soup, crackers, and a glass of milk into the sunroom, and we talk more while she eats.

"So, let me get this straight . . . Jasper has been so hostile to you because he's jealous? And he feels he has to compete with you for approval from both Alice and Carlisle? And Jasper feels Carlisle is so hard on you because he looks at you as his true son and believes in you?"

"In a nutshell, sweet one." I smile at her ability to break my family drama down to a few sentences. Too bad it hasn't been that easy to repair. Even in vampire covens, relationship dynamics can be quite challenging.

"Well, that's kind of good, right? I mean, now that you know what the issues are, you can work on them."

"You have such a wonderful way of looking at the world. I wish I could muster a fraction of your enthusiasm." I smile sadly, which draws a frown from Isabella.

"What's wrong, Edward?"

"There are still many hurdles to overcome. Vampires don't easily change, so the anger and resentment may take a long time to break down—even if there _were _misunderstandings."

She nods slowly with a thoughtful look. "You mean it's kind of like a speeding car? You know you went the wrong way, but it takes time to put the brakes on and come to a stop before you can change directions."

"Exactly like that."

She covers my hand with her own. "You'll get there, Edward."

"You know, I believe I will." Anything seems possible when I'm near her.

Late in the afternoon, we return to the living room after taking another short walk. Snuggling up on the couch, I turn the TV on, intending to put some of her favorite Seinfeld reruns on.

"Oh, the news. Let's watch for a few minutes and see if there's anything about me or Hannah."

We watch the reports carefully. There's a repeat of the information about Isabella, and a while later, a report comes on about Hannah.

"_In a bizarre and tragic twist, Senator James Hunter's almost four-year-old daughter has died in a failed kidnapping attempt. Margaret and Harry Donovan, the child's caretakers, were found bound and gagged in their home. The bodies of the kidnappers were found in Puget Sound a few days later, after their car broke through a guardrail and sank to the bottom. There were no survivors. Authorities found detailed plans for the intent to kidnap the child and blackmail Senator Hunter into paying ransom to get back his beloved daughter. Once again, the senator has requested privacy for his family while they grieve their loss. I'm Greta Foster."_

Isabella snorts. "Grieving my ass. He's probably dancing a jig right now, thinking he's rid of us both. Bastard."

"Indeed. It just makes things easier for us. Nobody will be searching for you or Hannah now."

"I suppose so. It's just . . . I still can't believe how stupid I was falling for his crap!"

"He's a politician, Isabella. Lying convincingly is par for the course, isn't it?"

"Apparently."

"So . . . a little Seinfeld to cheer you up?"

"You're starting to like the show, aren't you?"

"No."

"Maybe a little?"

Before I can answer, another Breaking News banner goes across the screen, and the report is interrupted.

"_We have breaking news from the small village of Sanlucar de Guadiana, Spain. Several desiccated corpses have been discovered in the nearby woods. Jesus Herrera, a local fisherman, was the first one on the scene when his dog ran off into the trees. He came upon the poorly concealed bodies, which were apparently piled in a shallow grave and covered with vegetation._

"_When authorities came to remove the bodies, the first one simply turned to dust. They're stumped as to how the bodies came to be in such a condition. A witness identified one of the bodies as belonging to a tourist seen around town just this past week, dispelling the belief that the bodies could have been old enough to reach such a mummified and fragile state on their own._

"_Authorities are asking anyone who has information to please call the number flashing on your screen. I'm Liam Johanssen, and we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming."_

"Fuck." I leaped up from the couch, pulling Isabella with me.

"You don't think . . ."

"That's exactly what I think. We need to go up to the house and talk to my family. This is very, very bad."

As we walk up to the house, my cell phone rings.

"Demetri? What the fuck is going on over there?"

"Edward, I think he's lost his mind. I haven't been able to get too close because he's staying in a compound up in the hills with security fences, cameras, and guards around the clock. I didn't want to tip him off that we're watching. He hasn't come out at all, but the bodies keep coming."

"How careless! Who's been disposing of the bodies?"

"I'm not sure. A few guys dressed in all black with face masks. But surely they didn't think they could dispose of bodies this way and not be discovered! It's awful, Edward. I _knew_ a few of these vampires in passing, and to see them like that—empty shells that disintegrate so easily . . ." Demetri's voice is haunted.

"The Volturi," I whisper.

"I haven't heard from Aro yet, but this news will eventually make it back to Italy, and then . . ."

"There's no other choice then. Stand by. I'll be in touch soon."

I hang up on Demetri and dial Emmett, but he doesn't answer his phone. Isabella looks at me askance, a question deep in her eyes. I only want to have this discussion once, in front of my family; otherwise, Isabella could easily derail my plans of doing what should have been done a while ago. James Hunter must be stopped.

****~*RK*~****

When we arrive at the house, everyone is already assembled in the dining room. _Alice._

Isabella and I walk in and take a seat in the two empty chairs beside Rosalie, who is uncharacteristically quiet. Jasper's face is pinched as he fights off the concern and paranoia rocketing around the room.

I greet them as I grasp Isabella's hand firmly in mine. "Alice, I'm assuming you had a vision and gathered everyone together?"

"Yes, but I haven't told them what it's all about yet."

"Is this about Em?" Rosalie bursts out, wringing her hands and glancing over at me anxiously.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"He hasn't called me for two days. That's not like him." She grips my arm tightly, digging her long nails into my skin. "Edward, I'm worried."

My mind passes over the fact that I tried to call Emmett on the way here and received no answer, and I seek to reassure her. After all, Emmett is following Demetri, and with all the security in the area, he might have decided to go dark for a few days.

"Try not to worry, Rose. I do have news of Spain, though." I go through the news report we just watched, and the faces around the table register disgust, anger, and fear. They all know if this news reaches the Volturi, there will be hell to pay and quite possibly more lives lost.

Carlisle shakes his head, his lips pursing into a frown. "Edward, this is bad. Something like this will not only catch the attention of the Volturi, but it draws human concern and investigation. Aro is not going to like this one bit. He'll punish anyone involved."

"I know. That's why I'm going to Spain to stop him."

"No!" Isabella lunges out of her seat and turns to face me. "You can't leave me!"

"Isabella," I say gently, "he must be stopped—and soon. The only way we can avoid the wrath of the Volturi is to neutralize him ourselves. James is no threat to me—it's not as if I'd take a drink of him." I smile, trying to lessen the sting.

Isabella feels betrayed by the way I announced this, I know. I see it as my responsibility to bring James Hunter down, and I don't really trust anyone else to do it. Besides, I need to read his mind to ascertain whether there's anything else we're unaware of.

"Why you?"

"Because I can read his mind. It has to be me, sweet one. This is my responsibility anyway. You're my mate, and Hunter hurt you and Hannah."

"Wh-What will I do . . . without you?" Isabella's lip trembles and a lone tear spills down her cheek.

My heart clenches, and it's all I can do not to promise her I'll stay. The last thing I want to do is be away from her, but there's no other way to do this. Getting to James Hunter with minimal casualties will be easier for me because of my gift. Just because there are people hired to protect Hunter doesn't mean they're guilty of any wrongdoing.

I turn in my chair and open my arms, welcoming her onto my lap where I wrap my arms around her. Nuzzling my nose into her fragrant hair, I breathe deeply, closing my eyes as her unique scent envelops me. "Isabella, I'm sorry. There's no other choice. I hate the thought of being away from you, but you'll be taken care of, protected, until I return." I place a finger under her chin and lift her face to mine. "Do you trust me?"

Isabella's eyes are full of tears, but in their sable depths I see her inner strength and resolve. They also tell me she trusts me completely, but I still want to hear the words. "Yes, of course I trust you, Edward. With my life—with Hannah's."

Bending my head down, I kiss her sweet lips, not caring that we're sharing such a private and tender moment in front of my family. Isabella doesn't seem to care, either, as the warmth of her fingers seeps into my face with gentle caresses. She parts her lips, kissing me back with abandon, leaving no doubt how much she believes in me. And I must not fail her.

"It's settled then. I leave tomorrow."

"Is there anything we can do, Edward?" Carlisle asks.

"Not that I can think of."

"Need a wingman?" Jasper smiles and winks, but he means it; he would come with me.

"As many of us as possible need to stay here and make sure Isabella and Hannah are safe and protected."

Rosalie's gaze is burning into me. "Maybe I should . . . ?"

"No, Rose." I shake my head.

"But Emmett hasn't answered his phone, and—"

"Rose, you're too close to this. I promise you, I'll find Em. I'm sure you'll hear from him soon. The more of us that show up over there, the more chance we'll receive attention from the wrong people."

"Gah! I hate it when you're right!" Rosalie curls her fingers into claws and snarls.

"What do you think?" I look over at Alice, who's said zip since we started talking.

She has that faraway look in her eyes that tells me she's checking different scenarios. Jasper watches her carefully, along with everyone else in the room. Her head tilts to the side, a V forming between her brows. When the pouty lip comes out, I know she isn't seeing things clearly.

"Well, there are too many damn variables! I do think it's best if you go alone . . . the more of us that get involved, the more likely the Volturi will be alerted. I wish I could see the outcome, but James Hunter is an unknown quotient."

"It's all right, Ali. While I'm in Spain, you can text me with any new information."

Esme grasps Carlisle's hand and smiles bravely. _I just got my boy back. Please let him come home soon, safely._

"I'm going to be fine, Mother. And we won't lose touch the way we did before, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers.

"Isabella and I need to visit Hannah and let the Quileutes know what's going on."

I embrace each member of my family, even Jasper, and then I call out to Quil, who's patrolling closest to the rendezvous point. He obliges and leads us through the wooded paths that end near the back of Sue Clearwater's house. Isabella rides on my back silently, and I suspect she's worrying about me being apart from her. Hell, I'm worried about it, too; I haven't been able to venture very far from her since we met. I expect to be in some pain while I'm away, but it's a necessary evil. The side of her face is warm between my shoulder blades, and I know I'm going to miss that and the feel of her body against my back.

Quil nods his head once we reach Sue's door, and I assure him I'll call for an escort when we're ready to leave. I let Isabella down off my back, and she rings the doorbell.

Sue opens the door with a smile. "Isabella, Edward, what a nice surprise!"

"Mama! Edwood!" Hannah squeals with delight, running out from between Sue's legs onto the small wooden deck and straight into Isabella's arms.

"Hey, baby. Are you having fun with Grandma Sue?"

"Yes! But I miss you, Mama." Hannah kisses Isabella's cheek and hugs her tight then turns to me. "Hi, Edwood!"

"Hello, princess." I scoop her up, spinning around as she giggles the way only a small child can. Her bubbly laugh is infectious, and despite our dire situation, I can't stop smiling. Once we stop spinning, I hug her close, enjoying the feel of her little arms around my neck, holding onto me with such trust. Her little girl scent swells around me, and oh, how I wish I didn't have to leave.

"Can you and Mama stay for dinner, Edwood?" she asks shyly.

"Oh . . ." I hesitate, looking between Sue and Isabella. Sue nods her head. "Sure. Your mama hasn't eaten yet, but I already have. I'd be happy to sit with you guys, though."

"Okay!" She leans close to my ear and whispers, "We're having cookie dough ice cream for dessert."

"Ah, I may have to try some of that." I smile as I put her back down. I'd eat ice cream if it would make her happy.

Sue ushers us into the house. It's small, not much larger than the cottage, and it's obviously been decorated with care. It's neat and uncluttered, and a small play area has already been set up for Hannah in the living room with dolls, stuffed animals, books, and puzzles.

"Mm-mm, that smells good, Mom. What are we having?" Isabella holds Sue's hand, and they walk into the kitchen together.

"Pot roast with vegetables and a salad. Hope that's okay—it's Seth's favorite, and I wasn't expecting company."

"That's great! I haven't had pot roast in ages. Where is Seth anyway?"

"He's on patrol, but he should be home any minute."

I sit on the floor with Hannah while she puts a puzzle together. She's very patient and has half of it finished by the time Seth barrels through the door in nothing but a pair of loose fitting shorts.

"Oh! Sorry. Didn't know we were having company. Hey, sis! Edward." Seth offers up a winning smile. "I'm just going to take a quick shower, Ma."

"Yeah, you do that, stinkerson." Sue waves a hand in front of her nose and laughs.

Ten minutes later, we're all sitting at the kitchen table with plates of steaming food, except for me. Hannah eats happily, delighted when the bottom of her plate reveals the Disney Princesses. She leans over and whispers, "Ariel is my favorite."

"Which one is that?"

"The mermaid! She can have feet _or_ a tail and breathe under the water."

"Wow. That's pretty awesome. I think she'd be my favorite, too."

Hannah flushes with pleasure and holds my hand in her chubby little fingers while using the other to eat more pot roast. She gulps down her milk, leaving a white mustache over her top lip. I almost expect Isabella to feel put out because Hannah is paying so much attention to me, but her luminous smile says otherwise.

After dinner, Isabella insists on helping clear the table and do the dishes. I sit on the living room floor with Hannah while she finishes the puzzle she started, which turns out to be a picture of Ariel.

Eventually, Isabella joins us, and it's time to tell Hannah what's happening.

"Listen, princess, we need to talk to you for a minute." I wait for her big brown eyes to meet mine. "I have to take a trip that's going to help your mommy. I just wanted to let you know that you won't see me for a while."

"Edwood come home?" Her voice holds a tinge of anxiety, and she grasps my sleeve.

"Of course. I'll be back before you know it. I'm going to miss you, and I'll be thinking about you and your mom every moment I'm away."

Hannah looks into my eyes, her forehead wrinkling up. "You still love us?"

"Always."

"Don't want Edwood to go."

"Sometimes we have to do things even when we don't really want to."

"Like brushing tangles out of our hair?" she asks with a dramatic sigh.

"Yeah, like that. Okay, princess?"

"I guess so." Her cupid bow lips form a pout, but she hugs me. "I love you, Edwood. Come home for Nana."

"I will." I swallow around the huge lump in my throat and watch Isabella's tears spill over. I lean over to brush my knuckles over her cheek, and mouth, "I love you."

The three of us huddle together on the floor, and I wonder how I'm going to face leaving tomorrow.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, the inevitable separation. *cries* FYI: the contest is still on for flavors/scents Edward might choose from Emmett's Party Pack! If I use yours, you will get a special preview of that chapter and bragging rights for sheathing Edward.**

**The next chapter of _I Want It Painted Black_ should post on Thursday, and the next one is nearly finished. I'll be on vacation all next week, so I'm not sure if there will be a chapter of _Red Kryptonite_ next week or not. I'll try my best!**

**Thanks to everyone who reads, recs, and lurks this story! **

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

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	25. Chapter 25 Such Sweet Sorrow

**A/N: Welcome back, awesome readers! My apologies that I've been remiss about answering reviews lately. Life has me, but I appreciate all of you so much!**

**One of Emmett's Party Packs to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for always being there for me even when life is cray cray.**

**Special thanks to my beta, Sue (chayasara), who flew solo on this puppy and made suggestions that made it much better. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

**~Such Sweet Sorrow~**

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><p><em><strong>May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back.<strong>_

_**May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields.**_

_**And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.**_

**~Irish Blessing**

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><p>When we get back to the cottage, Isabella is quiet. There's no more hiding behind family interactions or having fun with Hannah. We're alone and down to the wire. I leave in a few hours, and while I hate it, I know it must be done. If the Volturi get wind of this before I can get a handle on it, we may all be as good as dead.<p>

She rushes into the bathroom and runs the water. I still hear her quiet sobs. I rest my hand against the door but step away a moment later, leaving her to deal with her emotions in the way she deems fit. Isabella has had so much thrust upon her in her short life: a terminal illness, the death of her parents, a whirlwind courtship with a man who wanted her only for her blood, having her child ripped from her bosom, and running from a murder trial only to find out she's the mate of a vampire. She's certainly entitled to have a small meltdown when her mate is going to be far away for an unknown period of time. I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with the pain of our impending separation myself, but it must be done.

I sit on the bed, waiting patiently for her to finish in the bathroom. Perhaps I'm allowing her to deal with her feelings, but I won't feign ignorance about it. If we're to survive all this, we must keep things completely honest.

Twenty minutes later, Isabella exits the bathroom and gasps when we come face to face.

"Edward!" She places a hand over her heart. "I wasn't expecting you to be sitting there."

"I was waiting for you." I pat the bed, inviting her to sit with me.

"Hope I wasn't too terribly long." She perches on the edge of the mattress, offering me a weak smile.

"I heard you, Isabella," I say softly.

"You . . . oh." She blushes and looks down.

"Hey." I pick up her hand and brush my lips over her knuckles. "Please don't be embarrassed in front of me. You have every right to work through your emotions privately."

She leans her head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. "You always know just what to say, Edward."

"I know a lot of people would beg to differ." I throw my head back and laugh when I think of just how many people. I imagine Jenks' reaction and laugh harder. It feels good—for a moment—and then reality crashes back down on me.

"To me, you are perfection."

"I could say the same, sweet one." I lean in and place a kiss under her ear.

And just like that, the mood between us changes.

Turning her face to mine, I glide my fingers up the sides of her neck until her jaw is cradled in my hands. Her expressive brown eyes meet mine, and I lower my lips to hers, kissing her tenderly. She places her hands on my chest, fisting the material of my shirt as our kiss deepens. Everything she does is with so much emotion—from the slightest touch to the most passionate of kisses.

I lie back on the bed, pulling her with me. Isabella straddles me, her silken hair cascading around us. My hands roam over her soft curves, which are beginning to fill in. The razor sharpness of her hipbones has been tempered by the five pounds she's gained over the past few weeks. She's still far from a healthy weight, but her skin, hair, and body are becoming much healthier.

I realize this is the last time I'll touch her for an indefinite amount of time. I remember everything I've ever done—every touch, every feeling, every word, every sight—but my intention is to take special care to memorize her tonight.

"Edward," she whispers, her hair still curtained around us. "Make love to me? I just need—"

"Shh . . . of course I will." I kiss along her jaw, nuzzling my lips against her ear. "I love you. I want to memorize every moment with you to take with me. It's going to cause me great pain to be apart from you—I hope you realize this."

"I know. I love you, too, Edward. So much."

I roll us, wanting her under me. Isabella doesn't protest, her heart quickening as I slide one hand under the silky camisole to caress her breast. My touch is slow and gentle. My lips return to hers, my tongue dipping inside her mouth to taste her sweetness. Need for her burns inside me.

I lift my head to look down into her eyes. "I want you naked under me, Isabella. I need to feel your skin against mine." I stroke a finger back and forth across her kiss-swollen lips.

She gasps, her pupils dilating further. "I want that, too."

Rising to my knees, I help her out of her top and boy shorts then remove my own clothing. When we come back together, we are both gloriously naked, and her skin feels silken and delicate, like warmed rose petals.

I lie over her, allowing our skin to touch but keeping my weight off her using my forearms. Isabella sighs so sweetly, spreading her legs around my hips, allowing me to feel the searing heat between her legs that pulses just for me. The essence of her arousal surrounds me, a heady scent that makes me hunger like no blood ever has.

Kissing over her hardened nipples, I lave first one and then the other with my tongue, swirling around until Isabella is whimpering.

"Please . . . I want you inside me."

"Patience, sweet one. This has to last us a while."

I kiss softly over her collarbones and up the front of her neck until our lips meet again. My fingers play over her body—touching, caressing, remembering— inciting her passion and mine as she writhes beneath me.

I reach into the drawer beside the bed for a foil packet, the faint scent of grape entwining with our mingled scents. I roll on the purple condom and return to my previous position, cradling my cock between her legs.

She spreads her creamy thighs wider, and I slip down between them, perfectly lined up with her heat. I enter her slowly, savoring the sensation of her wrapped around me. My thrusts are languid, and I look into her eyes as we join together over and over. Her heart beats inside me, ties me to her. Twining our fingers together, I stretch her arms over her head and hold them down against the satin sheets.

"Oh, yes . . ." she gasps. She likes this.

My hips swivel, my thrusts a bit harder and faster but still languid, building, building to a crescendo.

I ghost my mouth over hers, our lips parted but barely touching, her sweet, panting breaths coating my lips. I watch her eyes as we both draw closer to the edge of bliss. I want to watch her come apart beneath me, a memory to get me through the painful days ahead.

"So good . . . you feel so good," she whispers against my lips, and her fingers tighten on mine.

It's difficult not to let go and slam into her, but this slow build is intense and far more intimate, bringing us closer together than ever.

Isabella gazes into my eyes, her expression filled with yearning as the sensations we're creating intensify. I feel it, too, a pulling in my abdomen and tingling heat rushing through my limbs indicating I'm nearing my release. I've never made love so slowly before, never had the desire to prolong my partner's experience. With Isabella, I want to savor her and give her something to hold on to while I'm gone.

Her mouth opens wider as she pants, so, so close to her release but still on that razor edge. Soft sounds and whimpers surround me as I kiss and lick my way up the side of her neck. I whisper against her ear, coaxing and encouraging, "Let go, Isabella. That's my girl. Come with me."

She cries out, her body stiffening around me. Her fingers clutch mine convulsively as she throws her head back, riding out her orgasm. And I'm right there with her. I roar, coming harder than I ever have.

When she finally comes down, I roll us on our sides, brushing the hair out of her face. We look into each other's eyes silently, just touching and caressing, no words necessary.

**~*RK*~**

In the early morning light, I watch Isabella sleep. After we made love, she fell into a sated slumber, a slight smile on her face most of the night. I'm so glad she wasn't restless, knowing that I have to leave soon. I'm sure when she awakens there will be moments of distress, but I must keep my resolve. James Hunter has gone too far, and with his misdeeds showing up in the international news, it's only a matter of time before the Volturi—as archaic as their communications are in this modern age—get wind of it. One greedy man's quest to become immortal has already cost countless lives, and I'm determined that no one I love will be among them.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I head out to the sunroom to take the call. The private number is unfamiliar to me.

"Masen."

"Edward, it's Billy Black."

"Yes?" I can't help wondering why he would be calling or even how he came by my unlisted cell number.

"I understand you're leaving for a trip—by yourself."

"That's correct."

"Might I suggest that Isabella would be more comfortable staying with Sue and Hannah while you're gone?"

"Isabella will stay with my family. She has medical needs."

"I understand that, Edward. Perhaps if we amend our agreement while you're away to include Carlisle? He can come and go from Sue's with an escort to check on Isabella's health and administer her treatments. He can show Sue how to give the injections, too."

My head tilts to the side as I consider Black's offer. The rising sun cuts through the domed glass, creating colorful prisms of light. My sensitive vision homes in on a beam of dust motes floating suspended in the air, the colors changing and morphing. In a way, we're all suspended in a beam of existence, and only by the exertion of another force is our trajectory changed. Do I want the Quileutes to be a deeper sphere of influence over my Isabella? Would they ever try to keep her or Hannah from me? The possessive vampire in me wants to snarl and say, "Over my dead body," but the more rational part of me believes they have her best interests in mind.

It would be beneficial for Isabella to be with her mother and daughter while I'm away. I have to think of what's best for her rather than my own comfort.

"Billy, that's a very generous offer. I'll discuss it with Isabella and Carlisle. There is one concession we would require, however."

"What's that?"

"A medical crisis might arise at some point. If there are no wolves available, we would need permission to access your land unescorted to get to Isabella."

"I think we can accommodate that."

"I'll get back to you then." I program Billy's number into my phone after I hang up.

"Edward? _Edward?_" Isabella's frightened, sleep saturated voice wafts out to me.

"In the sunroom," I call, but I'm already moving swiftly to her side.

When I enter the bedroom, she's sitting on the side of the bed with her feet flat on the floor, clutching a hand over her heart. Her wild gaze roams over me as if she can't believe I'm really here.

I fall to my knees beside the bed and take her hand. "What has you so distressed?" I stroke her cheek with my free hand.

"I—I thought you'd gone. I woke up and you weren't h-here."

"Do you honestly believe I would do that?" I look earnestly into her eyes.

She shakes her head and looks down in shame. "I'm sorry."

Using a finger under her chin, I coax her to look at me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I would never leave without saying goodbye. What's this really about, Isabella? You can tell me, you know."

"I'm going to be lost without you, Edward. I'm being such a baby, but I don't know how I'm going to do this alone." Her chin trembles, and a tear rolls down her face.

"I think I have a solution of sorts. Why don't you get dressed so we can discuss this with Carlisle?"

"Okay."

I cup her face and pull her toward me, kissing her lips softly. "You are the most precious treasure in the world to me. I promise I'll return to you as soon as possible."

"I know you will." She smiles bravely and heads off to the closet to dress, a slight spring in her step.

When we arrive at the house, Carlisle greets us stiffly. It's not so bad that Isabella would notice, but I can see the tension in his forehead.

"Father. Everything okay?"

_Jasper and Alice are at it again. I'm worried about them._

I nod but say nothing in response. I know very well why they are "at it again," and it makes me sad to know that I'm part of the cause. Eventually they'll work it through. They're mates, which doesn't _guarantee _a happily ever after, but nature has stacked the odds in their favor.

"Hello, Isabella. Why don't you two have a seat?" Carlisle gestures to the living room couch.

We settle in and Esme joins us. Rosalie wanders into the room, glancing at me cautiously. She wonders if Emmett is all right; she's still heard nothing from him. I can see that she's been berating Alice, whose visions have been dim and vague.

"I'm leaving this morning," I begin. "Billy Black called me a little while ago and suggested that Isabella stay with Sue and Hannah while I'm gone."

"Oh?" Carlisle cocks his head. _And how will that play out with Isabella's condition and need for medication?_

"Really?" Isabella's face brightens immediately, and the little V between her eyebrows smooths out.

"Father, Billy said you'll be allowed access to Sue's house in my absence. I've also requested permission for you to go on their land without an escort in case of an emergency."

Rosalie's expression is thunderous. "Edward, are you serious? You'd rather her stay with those _dogs_ than your own family?"

Esme sits quietly with her hands resting in her lap. She usually listens to all sides and gives considerable thought before weighing in, and this is no exception.

"Isabella is having a difficult time with me leaving, Rose. It would be best if she were with her mother and Hannah. It's nothing against our family—it's about what would be best for her."

"I see." Rose's mouth tightens, but she doesn't rebuff me.

"I think it's a good idea, dear." Esme leans over and pats Isabella's hand.

"You do?" Isabella smiles shyly. "I'm glad—because you've all been so good to me, and the last thing I want to do is insult any of you. I'd like to be with my mother and Hannah while Edward is away. Carlisle, would that be okay . . . medically?"

"Yes, it's fine. I have no problem coming to Sue's house to examine you and administer your injections. I can even show Sue or Seth how to give them if they're not squeamish about it." Carlisle nods encouragingly.

"Phew. I feel so much better."

"And now I'm dismissed, huh? I can just go?" I tease, kissing her on the nose.

"Well, no. I would rather you never left my side. Ever. But I understand you have to do this."

My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out. "Masen."

"Are you sitting down?" Demetri sounds almost . . . out of breath.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Emmett. He's here in Spain."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you?" Demetri sounds amused. "Bet you don't know what he's up to."

"No, I'm afraid I don't."

"Well, I'm not sure, either. He's inside the compound walls. I just got a glimpse of him a few hours ago."

"He what?" I shoot straight to my feet, raking a hand through my hair.

All eyes in the room are trained on me. _Way to overreact, Masen._

"I thought you might react this way. I got a glimpse of him through the security fence. I tried to get his attention, and I know he saw me, but he completely ignored me."

"Alone?"

"No."

"Thank you."

"Thank you? What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. I'm leaving for Spain as we speak. I'll see you there."

"I'll find you."

"I'm counting on it."

Ending the call, I pinch the bridge of my nose; it's a wonder I have any skin left there. And Demetri's call couldn't have come at a worse time—with my family all within hearing distance of every blessed word.

Rose paces back and forth. "What does this mean?"

"It means Emmett is fine. I'm sure there's an explanation. Don't worry, Rose."

Isabella is the only one out of the loop, and she looks at us with confusion until it dawns on her. "Oh, vampire hearing. What have I missed?"

"Emmett is in Spain, and he's behind the walls of Hunter's compound. I don't know why, but you can bet I'm going to find out."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Thoughts? Theories? Talk to me, peeps! Hope you enjoyed the lemonade because it might be a while . . . gulp.**

**Emmett's Party Pack Challenge is on! I've received some great flavors/scents and some downright weird ones, LOL. Keep 'em coming and you may be the one to sheath Edward for the reunion schmexing in addition to receiving your own special preview.**

**Next chapter of RK in two weeks. Sarita is overloaded with deadlines and stuff. New chapter of _I Want It Painted Black_ early next week.**

**I've been given the honor of receiving an ARC of the lovely Sydney A. Logan's (SydneyAlice) new book _Lessons Learned_. I'll also be hosting a day of her blog tour on September 8th. Mark your calendars and show up on my blog to read an interview with her character, the schmexy Lucas Miller, and enter to win a free copy of the e-book!**

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	26. Chapter 26 Demon Dust

**A/N: Hey, guys! My apologies for being horrific at review replies, but please know I read and savor each and every one. The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain—well, mainly on Edward. Ready?**

**As always, thank you to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their thoughtful (and amusing) input.**

**Huge thanks to my amazing beta, Sue (chayasara), for getting this chapter back to me within hours. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

**~Demon Dust~**

**_However long the night, the dawn will break. _~ African Proverb**

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><p>A thick mist hangs over the village of Sanlucar de Guadiana. Fishermen gather along the riverside, shops open, and people gradually fill the streets ready to begin their day. The majority of the squat buildings in the village are bright white with red tiled roofs, the streets and alleyways narrow. Space is at a premium in the bustling little community. The residents seem happy, the area unspoiled by modern technology. Perhaps that's why James chose it for his hideaway.<p>

From my perch across the water, I observe the townspeople and try to catch a glimpse of the compound. The tree cover is dense, and while I can tell where the compound is with my enhanced vision, it's still well-hidden.

"Good morning, sir." A young boy approaches from my left, and I nod in greeting. His clothes are tattered, and the skin on his face and arms has a patina of grime. "For you." He hands me a small square of paper.

_If you're not from around here, and you have no appetite for the food served in the local restaurants, I may have something to offer. Money and clothes available in exchange for simple tasks._

"Wait," I command in a brusque voice.

The boy turns back, hesitant. His eyes dilate with fear. "I don't read English. Not my business."

I slip a fifty-dollar bill out of my pocket and tuck it into his hand. "Get a hot meal and some clothes."

His eyes widen at the sight of the money. He's probably never seen that large of a denomination before. If he's careful, it might last his family quite a while. "You want something?"

"If you could tell me why you gave this to me, I'd appreciate it." I hold up the slip of paper between my index and middle fingers.

"The rich man. He tells local boys what to look for—pale skin, strange eyes, really good looking. Then he rewards our families with food and medicine. It's never enough here."

"Do you know his name? Where can I find him?"

"Up there." He points up the mountain where I already know Hunter's compound lies.

"Thank you."

The boy saunters away, but he stops before getting onto a small boat docked by the water. "Sir? Don't go there. You seem . . . much nicer than the rest. He's . . . a bad man." He crosses himself then unties the boat.

I watch and listen to the buzz of the town, their voices and minds. Most of the inhabitants have no idea something has gone wrong, and they go about their lives as usual. Some of them know about the bodies and wonder if there's a new disease come to take from an area that doesn't have much left to give. Since all the deaths are outsiders, many wonder if there's something local they've become immune to that affects the pale faces. Then there are local boys, charged with providing for their families. They know something is wrong, that many of the slips they hand out result in desiccated bodies that turn to dust under their fingers.

By noon, the cloud cover has almost burned away, and the sun will break through soon. I follow a path to the causeway that leads to the edge of the village. Instead of heading into town, I take the path that forks left, heading into dense forest.

"What the hell were you waiting for?" Demetri, patient as ever, drops out of a tree in front of me.

"Recognizance."

"By watching the local yokels? What are you going to learn about Hunter from them?"

"I learned quite a bit. Most of the village hasn't a clue."

"I could've told you that." Demetri's face pinches into a sour look.

"The ones that have seen the bodies wonder if there's something local to them that's toxic."

"There is. James Hunter."

"And Hunter is paying local boys to recruit for him."

This stops Demetri in his sarcastic tracks. "He what?"

I hand over the slip of paper. "This is how he's finding his victims once they're in the area." I explain what the boy told me.

"Well, the fucker is clever. I'll give him that."

The trees surround us here, and they get even thicker as the mountain rises. The steepness of the stony paths ensures not many people would brave a broken ankle to sate their curiosity. Only a vampire could easily traverse this area.

"How did Hunter get up there?"

"There's one road in that comes up the back of the mountain. He's got it blocked off and guard-posted. Trust me—none of the locals have even attempted it. Once they saw the bodies, they've only looked this way with fear in their eyes."

"Where's Emmett?"

"He's inside the compound. I haven't been back up there since I saw him the other day. Figured I'd wait for you and we could deal with this together."

"Lead the way."

Demetri starts up the mountain, and I follow, shoving my hand in my pocket. My fingers close around the two ampules of blood that Carlisle insisted I bring with me. It wasn't much, but he reminded me it could be the difference between staying alive and desiccation. I accepted them.

Isabella's goodbye comes to mind. She pressed her warm lips against mine, her fingers twining in my hair. "Come home, Edward."

"I will. Promise." I pulled her up against me and pressed my mouth to hers, kissing her deeply.

And then Hannah came running across the yard. "Edwood!" She held out a chubby fist loaded with wildflowers. "These are for you, Edwood. Don't forget Nana."

I scooped her up with one arm and kissed her flushed cheek. "Thank you, princess. How could I ever forget you? Besides, I'll be back soon, and I want to see that Ariel puzzle all finished."

"Deal!" Her trusting eyes and innocent smile caused a lump in my throat.

I stick my fingers in the pocket of my jacket. The remnants of the dying wildflowers are there, a tactile reminder of the little girl and her mother who count on me.

"Earth to Edward." Demetri glances back at me.

I tilt my head, taking in his burnt umber eyes. "What have you been feeding on? Not humans."

He rolls his eyes. "Ugh. Don't remind me. With all the drama going on around here, I've been forced to dine on _animals_. I thought locals disappearing might add dangerous levels of fuel to the rumor mill." His lips twist in disgust. "I can't wait to sink my fucking teeth into buttery flesh."

"I hear you." I grin.

"Okay, the compound is just ahead." Demetri snags my arm and points. "That curves around to the right then straightens out. There are guards patrolling, motion lights and sensors, tripwires. You name it . . . this asshole has it. And I heard screams last night. Bet another body will be sent out soon."

I feel as if Demetri punched me in the chest, and I grab him by the neck. I want to slam him into the nearest tree, but we might draw attention. Instead, I squeeze my fingers tighter. "And you just thought to tell me about the screams now? It could be Emmett!"

He pries my hand from around his neck. "Edward, I needed you here in a solid frame of mind. If you go off half-cocked, we're all dead. I don't think it was Emmett."

"Why the fuck not?" I force the words out through gritted teeth.

"Another vampire came up the back way yesterday. He handed a slip of paper to the guards, and they let him through. Must have been one of the recruits."

"Let's go. We need to figure out what's happening."

We move stealthily through the trees, and Demetri points out the motion detectors, spotlights, and tripwires. I'm thinking we need to enter from above and drop down inside. From what I can see, Hunter's equipment won't register anything over twenty feet high. We can easily leap from the top of a tree and clear all of his security measures. I explain my plan to Demetri. Now we have to watch the guards and figure out their patrol patterns. I need to listen to their minds; I have no intention of killing innocent men.

We settle into the branches of a tree and keep watch. Ten minutes later, a solitary guard in a navy blue uniform patrols the perimeter with a large black dog that strains at its leash. We need to avoid the dog since animals instinctively fear vampires.

Five minutes later, two guards wearing similar uniforms walk the edge of the fence. One of them is Emmett. His navy button-down shirt pulls across his shoulders, the short sleeves showcasing his bulging arms, and he wears a cap pulled low over his eyes. His posture is ramrod straight, and a gun rides in a holster on his right hip. The guy he's with is short and wiry, but his demeanor says he's a badass more than willing to draw his pistol at the slightest provocation.

Demetri and I look at each other with surprise. I hold a finger up in front of my lips. I want to watch a full patrol before we consider anything.

Another single guard with a dog followed by a pair of guards goes by, all in five-minute intervals. Therefore it takes twenty minutes for a full revolution around the property. Calculating the time based on their gait, I now have an idea how big Hunter's compound is. All the guards are human with the exception of Emmett.

As the men go by, I listen to their thoughts. None of them expect trouble; a few wonder what Hunter is expecting to happen, and all of them find the job boring, but the money is too good to pass up. Emmett is the only one whose mind has some forward motion, but even he seems to be in a holding pattern.

On his second pass around the fence, I say his name. "Emmett."

His stride falters for a tenth of a second, nothing a human could detect. _Eddie! It's about fucking time you showed up. I've been holding down the fort._

"What the hell are you doing in there?"

_Hunter was hiring a guard, so I took the job. I figured we could get a look at things from inside the fence._ Emmett flicked the brim of his hat.

"Does Hunter know you're a vampire?"

_Fuck, no! Jesus, Edward . . . you should've heard the screams last night. It was too late—there was nothing I could do._

Something occurs to me. "Emmett, how have you avoided detection by the guard dogs?"

_I just acted like a pussy, told them I'm scared to death of dogs 'cause I got bit by one as a kid. Easy peasy._

"When do you get off duty?"

_In an hour._

"We'll be waiting out here for you."

Since I can hear Emmett's thoughts and Demetri can't, I have to explain the entire conversation again. Annoying.

**~*RK*~**

As dusk settles over the forest, Emmett joins us in the tree where we've been keeping watch. Hunter has infrared cameras, and a spotlight sweeps the perimeter of the fence every five minutes. The man is a paranoid fuck, but I suppose he has good reason to be when dealing with vampires. Does he know enough to realize bullets are ineffective? Or maybe there are others out there—humans—that want a piece of his unscrupulous ass.

"Hey, guys! I can't stay long." Emmett perches on a thick branch and grins at us.

"Why not?"

"Guards aren't permitted to leave the premises without permission. New guards aren't allowed to leave period. Not until their probation is over."

"How long is probation?" Demetri asks.

"Six weeks. Hunter is a controlling fucker. Not that I would know much about him. He doesn't consort with the peons that protect him."

I slip my cell out of my pocket and hand it to Emmett. "Call your wife. She's frantic."

Emmett dials and Rosalie picks up on the first ring. "Edward, is he okay?"

"Hey, baby."

"Em, what the hell? Is everything all right?"

"Are you worried about me? That's so sweet."

"Are. You. Okay?"

"I'm fantastic. And now that Eddie and Demetri are here, even better."

"Good, because when you get back, I'm going to kick your ass!" Rose's voice is shrill and strained. Demetri and I both cringe, but Emmett's smile widens.

"I miss you, Rosie. I can't wait to break a few beds when I get home."

"I'm going to break your thick skull."

"Aw, come on. You know you love me."

"Whatever. What's going on over there?"

"Not entirely sure yet. I'm working as a guard for that asshole Hunter. He has no idea I'm a vampire. It's fucking boring pretending to sleep in the bunk with the other guards, though."

As I listen to the banter between Emmett and Rosalie, pain blooms in the center of my chest. Isabella's beautiful face floats behind my eyes, and I press my palm against the space where my heart used to beat. Being away from her is both harder and easier than expected; I just need to keep myself occupied.

After a few minutes of baby talk, smoothing things over with Rose, and dirty little promises, Emmett finally hands me back my phone.

"Okay, Emmett, tell us what you know."

"Well, your cell phone will be useless in there. Hunter jams the signals. No communication gets in or out without his permission. Honestly, I haven't seen the guy even once. I only know he's here because of my bionic hearing. All the guards sleep in the hut. We have bunk beds, a shower room, and a small kitchen. There's a bookshelf with some magazines and books, but no outside technology is allowed. The TV is hooked up to a DVD player, but there's no cable. And none of these guys have any idea what's going on as far as I can tell."

"Have you heard anything of interest? If you haven't met Hunter, who do you deal with?"

"His right hand man, Laurent, handles the guards. Seems nice enough. I didn't really hear much of anything until last night." Emmett shudders. "Some vamp was escorted in. I was on patrol with Jimbo, and it would look suspicious if I stopped, so I had to keep going. I heard Hunter say he was trying out something new. Ten minutes later, bloodcurdling screams started. Eddie, they went on for like an hour. It sounded like he was ripping a human heart out while someone was still alive. What the fuck could you do to a vampire that could cause so much agony?" Emmett grabs at my sleeve. "The other guards . . . they don't discuss it. We were told to mind our business and do our job no matter what we see or hear."

My brother is scared. The three of us look at each other for a while but have nothing further to say. Eventually, Emmett announces he has to go. His partner agreed to cover for him so he could get some fresh air. He needs to feed before going back; beneath his contacts, his eyes are black.

Demetri and I sit in silence after Emmett leaves. I know all too well what could cause that much pain for a vampire. When I tasted Isabella's blood, it only took a small amount to drop me and send me into a comatose state. What could Hunter be doing that would keep a vampire conscious but immobilized in agony?

During the night, a body wrapped in black plastic is removed from the compound. The men wear black uniforms and seem harder—more in the know than the guards we encountered earlier. We follow them down the mountain, sticking to the trees to avoid being seen. They go deeper into the woods this time and dig a shallow grave. Their laziness from before cost them one of their own. The leader thinks about it as he stands there watching his underlings dig, lower the body, fill the hole in, and pat down the dirt.

He is now responsible for keeping the secret from the locals. A tall, burly man with lifeless brown hair—perhaps Laurent—informed him that his life was on the line. If he fucked up, he was dead.

We wait for an hour before we dig up the body. Not because the men might come back. We're immortal beings. There isn't much in this world that can hurt us, but whatever is going on here makes us just as mortal as any other living thing.

Demetri carefully unwraps the plastic, and for the first time, I see up close what almost happened to me.

The vampire is still in one piece. When vampires are perfectly still, not putting on a show for the humans, their skin resembles marble. They could almost pass for a statue, but not to another of our kind. The level of stillness _we_ observe causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.

Like all vampires, this one is unnaturally beautiful. His skin has a bluish tinge, and it sparkles even under the scant light from the moon. The eyes staring sightlessly up at the sky are not scarlet or amber; they are milky and devoid of color, like cataracts.

We crouch down next to him, and I run my index finger over the long, raven hair. It's brittle, and strands pull out and float away on the breeze. Demetri stands and backs away. I want to do the same, but I need to know more. I swipe a finger over the vampire's face, and his cheek caves in. The texture is gritty, like sand, but lighter, like dust. It's bluish and sparkles.

As I draw back, I notice a slip of yellow paper pinned to his shirt.

_Come inside and maybe I won't kill the imposter pretending to be one of my guards._

This is the point where a human would vomit into the grass. Maybe run screaming.

We need to go into that compound and take care of business.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Yes, things are about to get dicey. There are some interesting twists coming up, so hold on! I'd love to know what you're thinking now. You guys never fail to surprise me.**

**Working on the next update for _I Want It Painted Black_.**

**I've finished my novel, and now I'm working on my first set of edits. I have my next book all planned out, and I'm in discussions with my idea partner (the hubby) about my third. Despite how busy work on my original fiction is, I will continue writing fanfic and thank my loyal readers for their patience and support. I really have the best readers ever and treasure all of you.**

**Next chapter in two weeks. Sarita is cray cray with writing and editing projects.**

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**An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**


	27. Chapter 27 Hunter and Prey

**A/N: Welcome back, everyone! Ready to meet James?**

**Thanks to my loyal friends and pre-readers, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their awesomeness.**

**The lovely Sue (chayasara) beta'd this _so _fast that my pre-readers didn't even have a chance to return it. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 27<strong>

**~Hunter and Prey~**

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><p><em><strong>The petty man is eager to make boasts, yet desires that others should believe in him. He enthusiastically engages in deception, yet wants others to have affection for him. He conducts himself like an animal, yet wants others to think well of him. <strong>_

_**~ Xun Zi**_

I turn to face Demetri, holding the sinister note up for him to see. He curses and backs up a few more feet, his mind a miasma of fear and confusion.

"We have to get Emmett out of there." I stalk toward him and grab him by the arms, giving him a good shake. "Get a hold of yourself. We have shit to do."

"I didn't sign up for this. I'm not going in there, Edward."

"I don't want you to go in. We need to alert Emmett and get his ass out of there, then I can deal with Hunter. This can't be allowed to go on."

Demetri relaxes once he hears I want him on the outside. _Coward._ Once Emmett is outside, I'll be able to do what I need to without reservation.

We rebury the body after pinning the note back in place. If Hunter has someone check, he'll think we haven't discovered the message yet.

Heavy storm clouds fill the sky now, and the first patters of rain start to fall. By the time we make our way around to the side where the hut is, the rain is pelting off every surface, leaving huge mud puddles on the ground and a virtual mudslide down the side of the mountain. Lightning zaps across the sky, and thunder cracks less than a second later. I hope the storm keeps on because it's given me an idea.

We maneuver into position as close to the perimeter as possible. A lone guard with a dog goes by. I have five minutes before a pair of guards show up.

"Emmett."

_Yo! What's up?_

"Hunter knows you're not human. Get the fuck out of there now."

_Shit! Are you sure? It'll be hard to leave right now—we're in the middle of a poker game._

"I don't give a shit what you're doing. Get out of there. Hunter left me a note—he knows we're out here."

Emmett rises from the table, the other guys looking up from their hands curiously. "I'm outta this one, boys. Need to go take care of some biz, ya know?"

"Your timing sucks, McCarty."

"Good luck, girls!" Emmett swaggers off toward the bathroom.

Five minutes later, he joins us outside the compound.

"Fuck, Eddie. I thought I had them all fooled."

"You did fool your fellow bunkmates, but something must have tipped off Hunter. Once you know what to look for, vampires are easier to spot. I want you and Demetri off this mountain."

"What? No way, bro!" Emmett shakes his head and cracks his knuckles.

Demetri says nothing, but a sigh of relief passes through his cowardly mind.

"Do as I say, Em. I'll be far more effective if I don't have to worry about you two. If it makes you feel better, hang out in a tree and listen."

"We're not leaving you here alone. A tree it is, right, D?"

"Right."

We make our way around to the back of the compound and choose a meeting place. The rain hasn't let up, and although the lightning is now off in the distance, rumbles of thunder still boom every so often—a perfect night for a covert mission.

I move swiftly from treetop to treetop until I'm as close as possible to the twenty-foot-high wall surrounding the compound. Squat concrete buildings with flat roofs are spread throughout, some in clusters, but it's obvious where Hunter can be found—it's the only two-story structure and is set apart from the rest. The extra cameras attached to each corner of the dwelling give it away as well.

Leaping from the highest tree, I land silently on the roof of the austere house. There are no cameras aimed up here, which tells me Hunter doesn't know as much as he thinks he does about vampires. The windows are all alarmed. Hanging over the side of the roof, I notice a square attic vent and yank it out easily. It makes a vague scraping sound, but the pounding rain masks it. Swinging over the side, I enter through the opening, replacing the vent behind me as I go.

The attic is hot and stuffy, but it doesn't contain the usual discarded trappings that most houses do. There are a few beat-up metal desks and sagging cardboard boxes thick with dust and not much else. Water puddles around my feet, and my boots squish against the wood floor as I approach one of the boxes and remove the lid. There are sheaves of paper shoved inside haphazardly. I flick the water off my hands, shaking them rapidly until they dry, then crouch down and flip through the papers.

They date back several years. There are test results for James Hunter—extensive genetic testing, scans, and transfusion records. All of them have the same odd logo at the top. I keep rifling through the papers and come across a leather-bound journal with pages and pages of experiment results. The tight, cramped handwriting fills each page, sometimes growing almost unreadable as the experiments progress with no positive findings. The journal never mentions vampires directly, but it's obvious to me what the author is referring to. Disgusted, I toss the journal aside and continue picking through the box. I come upon more lab work, this time with Isabella's maiden name at the top, and it's from Forks General. There's an exclamation point next to the genetic markers Isabella has in common with Hunter. I clench my fist with a low growl.

The paperwork in this box ends before Hannah was born. Other than discovering Isabella's anomaly, it seems Hunter hit brick wall after brick wall with his experiments. Closing up the box, I decide to move on.

I descend the stairs, opening and closing the door at the bottom so swiftly that the creak only lasts a fraction of a second—far too quickly for human ears to hear. The sound of someone moving about downstairs draws my attention. I cock my head, listening carefully. One heartbeat. Then again, Hunter_ is_ expecting me.

The first floor is sumptuously decorated, what one would expect for a senator. As I reach the basement level, things change. I locate him easily and lean in the doorway of his basement office. Everything is sterile here. White floor and walls, gray metal desks and countertops, and no extra luxuries or adornments. Despite the fact he's tried to clean up well, I can see traces of blood in hairline crevices around the room.

He appears relaxed, sitting behind his desk going through a folder of papers. His sandy brown hair is perfectly groomed, just the right length for a senator. His nails are perfectly manicured, and his navy polo shirt is unwrinkled.

I know the moment Hunter senses that he's not alone. His heart does a double beat and then slows as he glances up at me. He has a good face for a politician—handsome enough but no movie star, benign looking, a nice smile. He's good at regulating his heart rate, but the tremble of his fingers as he steeples them is telling. Biofeedback training maybe.

"Edward Masen, I presume." He has the smooth-as-honey voice of a politician, too. Shakes your hand while stabbing you in the back but still leaves you in a daze. Idly I wonder what his qualities would translate into if he were a vampire and shudder inwardly.

"That's correct." I school my features into a bland expression even though he surprised me. _How does he know who I am?_

"You did a shit job finding my beloved wife." His blue eyes turn steely and his hands steady—it's obvious he's in his element when looking down his nose at someone else.

"My condolences, Senator. For both of your losses."

Hunter stares back impassively then waves me closer, indicating the chair in front of his desk. "Come in, Edward. Have a seat."

"I think I'll stand."

Not only does he know my name, he knows what I am and what my gift is. A medley of heavy metal music with complex guitar riffs plays constantly in his mind. A discomfiting feeling descends over me, and I sense a trap has been set. But by whom?

"As you wish. So, what can I do for you, Edward?"

"You requested my presence."

"Do you have something to do with my infiltrator then?"

"In a manner of speaking. He's left your employ, by the way."

"Ah." Hunter leans back in his chair and nods. Another set of loud, screaming guitar riffs starts up. "That works for me. He was afraid of the guard dogs. Anyway, it's you I'm interested in seeing."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Well, you _were _hired to bring my errant wife back for trial. I paid you good money for that." He smirks at me.

"We both know that's not why I'm here." My friendly façade slips, and I'm tempted to snap his neck and get it over with.

"Fine. My wife took something of mine, and I was hoping you might know where it is."

"What's that?"

"Some bags of blood."

"Sorry, no. There were only ashes left."

He flinches but quickly recovers his composure. "Did you find out anything else about her activities? Maybe somewhere she might have . . . stashed the samples?"

"Afraid not."

Hunter nods his head. "Perhaps we should cut to the chase?"

"Now you're talking."

"You're a vampire."

"Yes."

"I'd like to be one."

"Yes."

"Perhaps we can make a deal."

"I rather doubt that." I smirk at him. "You are the man who can't be turned, and it burns your ass, doesn't it? You'll grow old and feeble and die like the rest of the human race."

A flare of anger sizzles in his icy blue eyes, and fault lines form over his f_açade_ of composure. For a moment I see him meeting with someone in the dank shadows of a nearly empty bar. He swirls a glass of whiskey over ice around slowly before taking a deep gulp. He doesn't look at his companion but stares down at his hands. "You have a deal," he mumbles, the thought immediately on its heels, _I've finally sold my soul._

"Well, Edward, I've been working on that, and I may have a solution."

"Oh?"

"Yes, I've got some people working on a cure, and it seems they're very close." Metallica starts up in his mind, a choking vine around the memory of the bar. For some reason, that night was important, pivotal.

"Who was your friend at the bar, Hunter?" I leave my post at the doorway and swagger across the room, towering over him behind his metal desk, merely a scrap of tinfoil to me.

"You caught that, huh?" He smiles in a predatory way, and I'm not sure if it's just bravado or something more.

As I draw closer, I can see the file on his desk is labeled "Cullen Coven," and I freeze for a tenth of a second. There's a stack of photos spread haphazardly on the top, and although I can only see Carlisle and Alice, I'm betting every one of my family members will be accounted for. Anger surges through me, and I reach over the desk and haul him to his feet by the front of his polo shirt. When our faces are a mere inch apart, I bare my teeth and snarl at him. "You know, I could snap your neck right now, Hunter. It would be as easy for me as twisting the top off a beer would be for you."

For the first time, his eyes dilate with fear. He tries to backpedal, but I lift him in the air until his feet dangle a foot above the floor. His heart gallops in his chest, biofeedback forgotten as he faces his own mortality.

"Don't be so hasty or you'll never find out what I know!" Hunter's words come out in a rush.

"I doubt you know anything of importance, you pathetic weasel."

"Sure I do. I know your family's got Isabella stashed away!" When I hesitate, he continues. "Do you have the little girl, too?" _Maybe it doesn't matter if the samples of blood are lost if I can get the kid back._

Unable to control myself, I toss the scum against the wall. There's a splintering sound as his collarbone cracks, and he screams out in pain, sliding to the floor.

"That little girl is your _daughter_! She's a beautiful and precious child. How can you think of her as a lab rat?" I snarl at Hunter as he crawls over to the desk and pulls himself upright. He deserves to die for what he's done to my girls.

"Sounds . . . like she . . . means something . . . to you." He grits his teeth, attempting to hide how much pain he's in.

"And it sounds like she means nothing more than a meal ticket to you. You disgust me."

"That makes this that much easier." Hunter points what looks like a small flare gun at me and pulls the trigger.

The barrel has an attachment that atomizes the contents into a forceful fine mist. It's so fine, in fact, that I barely register the reddish droplets before they enter my mouth and nose. I stop breathing, but it's too late.

Fire erupts under my skin, and my limbs go weak. I know better than to take another breath.

Hunter shoots me in the face again, an evil glint in his eyes. "Thought you could best me, huh, Edward? The great and powerful Edward Masen. Mind reader, seductive vampire, black sheep. The bounty hunter with a conscience." He jams his hand in the center of my chest, and I allow myself to fall.

If I open my mouth to scream, more of his poison will enter my system. Too late, I remember the ampules of blood in my pocket. If I can only get to them . . . but my hands are already shaking like a Parkinson's patient. I remember the drill all too well.

I writhe on the floor, moaning, feigning a higher level of agony than I actually feel. Hunter watches me carefully with his beady eyes, and it's not such an act to arch my back and roll around with pain.

"You vampires are all alike. You believe you're immortal, invincible. Well, guess what? You're not."

Agony blooms inside me, and all I can see is Isabella's beautiful face. The last time I was in pain like this, she hovered over me with concern, nursing me back to health with Hannah's blood and her mere presence. My fingers twitch uncontrollably, and I know there's no chance of getting that blood out of my pocket. I can't chance it, either. If Hunter sees it, he might put it all together. He knows about my family, that we have Isabella. What he doesn't seem to know is that she's my mate; he thinks I'm just helping to hide her away. I need to keep it that way so he doesn't find a way to use me against Isabella.

After pulling the trigger and letting out another lethal cloud of blood droplets into the air, Hunter sits down at his desk again, smoothing his ruffled hair down, and tugging his clothes back into place. He winces when his right shoulder moves the wrong way and bone grinds on bone.

"Stupid fucking vampire! You'll pay for breaking my shoulder." He digs through the folder on his desk, pulling out a sheet of paper. "And that bitch, too! When I get my hands on her, I'll wring the blood out of her body!"

Rage singes through me red-hot, and I rise to my knees with a snarl. I'm too weak and flop over onto my stomach with my cheek mashed into the floor. Hunter gazes at me, appraising, amusement in his cruel eyes.

"Bravo!" He claps his hands, mocking. "Is that how you get all those women in your bed? By pretending chivalry isn't dead? Guess we're more alike than I imagined. After all, that's how I got up Isabella's skirt."

"Nothing . . . like you." I waste precious energy speaking because I so desperately want a piece of that fucker. I should rip his tongue out for talking about Isabella that way or for comparing me to him.

"You're right on that." His eyes glint with madness as he preens. "I'm a winner. Soon, I'll have immortality and the ability to exterminate the vermin. See, there's power in having the remedy of the disease and the disease of the remedy. Once I have all the pieces, that pathetic tyrant will bow down to me!" Spittle flew from his disgusting mouth, and then his mind opened wide with pride.

Thoughts flew by, and I was barely able to capture them in my weakened state.

_Aro._

Aro gave James Hunter the file on my family. He told Hunter that Carlisle wouldn't be able to resist finding a cure for Isabella, that if he hired me as the bounty hunter my sense of ethics would lead her to the Cullens—right where he wanted her.

They were letting Carlisle do all the work. Aro said he was tenacious and had a brilliant mind. If anyone could find a cure, it would be his old friend. And once it was done, Aro would grant James immortality and a place within the Volturi, compensating him handsomely for his loyalty. The weapon and the cure would be in Aro's possession and the immortal would be as vulnerable as humans, easily dispensed with from a distance.

"You're sick. Do you really think Aro will give you anything once he has his hands on this?"

Hunter cocks his head and smirks. "No, of course not. Never try to bullshit a bullshitter, right? The thing is, Aro is a doddering old fool with an archaic mind. He fancies himself to be the top of the food chain, but there's a new game in town. By the time he realizes what's happening, he'll be dust." He holds up his contraption. "What do you think, Edward? I designed this myself. Just imagine if I spread droplets through a ventilation system . . . say somewhere in Italy. It could bring down the house, eh?"

He rolls me over and sits on my chest, pointing the barrel at my face. "It's a shame you won't be there to see it."

I 'm weak as a kitten, but there's no comfort this time. No Isabella to feed me life-sustaining blood, to curl up next to me, to press her lips to mine. True fear shudders through me—fear for my Isabella and little Hannah. The thought of my girls being Volturi lab rats draws an aggrieved moan out of me, and I pray my family will figure out what's happening in time, that Alice will see.

My eyes burn, and my head feels like a rock tumbler. Dry desert heat bakes me from the inside out, and I'm at the mercy of a madman.

Hunter rams his knee into my chest, and I cry out as my sternum cracks, sending shards of white-hot pain ripping through me.

And then with a maniacal laugh, he pulls the trigger.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: *Ducks flying objects* Well, I _have_ been taking suggestions for Emmett's Party Pack. Draw your own conclusions about whether Edward will survive or not. :-) Several of you have asked if we will get Isbella's POV during their separation, and the answer is probably not. This is Edward's story. I have not ruled out the possibility of an outtake, though.**

**Next chapter in two weeks. Thanks to everyone who reviews, recs, and lurks this story. Mwah!**

**I've been given the honor of receiving an ARC of the lovely Sydney Logan's (SydneyAlice) new book _Lessons Learned_. I'll also be hosting a day of her blog tour on September 8th. Mark your calendars and show up on my blog to read an interview with her character, the schmexy Lucas Miller. Leave a comment on the blog during the giveaway and be eligible to win your very own copy of _Lessons Learned_!**

**I'm also reading _Ghostwriter_ by the talented Lissa Bryan. Stay tuned for news of the blog tour and e-book giveaway, coming in October.**

**Follow me on Twitter: SaritaDreaming or SarahAisling**

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**An Archive of Our Own: archiveofourown .org users / SaritaDreaming**


	28. Chapter 28 Scream

**A/N: Hello, lovely readers! My thanks go to all who read, rec, and lurk this story.**

**The chance to nurse Edward back to health goes to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. Love you, gals!**

**I'm grateful to my awesome betas, Katmom and Sue (chayasara) for their talents with the sparkly reds. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

**~ Scream ~  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong.<strong>

**No matter how fast light travels,**

**it finds the darkness has always got there first,**

**and is waiting for it.**

**~ Terry Pratchet**

Whether you're human or immortal, the one question that goes through the mind at one time or another is, _What happens when I die?_ Does everything just cease to be, or is there something more? The utter blackness that lasted six days when Isabella fed me her blood suggested there might not be a hereafter. Then again, I didn't die that time; I was only in stasis.

For an unknown number of hours, maybe days, my mind has been going around and around with thoughts of mortality. I've been bargaining with God, begging Him to spare me—even if it's only long enough to save Isabella and Hannah from that sick fuck Hunter.

An all-encompassing blackness surrounds me, a complete absence of light. In fact, I don't seem to have a body, just consciousness. All my memories are intact, and I clearly remember Hunter leering down at me as he shot me in the face with his atomizer, but there have been no physical sensations since that moment. I float in this inky blackness with no fingers to feel, no ears to hear, no mouth to speak.

I long to scream, to jolt my body into action, but there are no nerves to respond to firing synapses. Emotionally, I feel agony, but none of the resultant tension or coiling of muscles accompanies it.

And always, always, my thoughts return to Isabella and Hannah. _I failed them._ Aro and Hunter are using them as lab rats, using Carlisle to find the cure so they can steal it and use it for their own nefarious purposes. From the beginning, we've all been pawns in their sick game, manipulated so completely.

It feels strange having no teeth to gnash, no feet to run like the wind, no hands to wrap around James Hunter's traitorous neck . . . no eyes to admire my Isabella, no lips to kiss her with, no fingers to caress all her secret places.

My anger simply turns in on itself and grows. There's no outlet for my frustrations.

There comes a time when a soft grayness develops. I don't exactly see it; it's more of a feeling. In that space there will be no pain, but I sense it's a choice that only I can make. I allow my consciousness to drift closer, and numbness begins to overtake my thought process, slowly draining away my past. It consumes my memories and the essence of who I am. At some point, I realize it's erasing Edward Masen. The human turned vampire, the son, the playboy, the bounty hunter, Isabella's lover and protector, Hannah's father.

Most of my life, I can easily let go of, but not Isabella or Hannah. If I must remain in this purgatory forever, so be it, but I will never relinquish the way it felt to love and care for them. They are the only things I've ever truly done right.

And so I hold on without hands. My tether to this world is through memories of my girls. _My_ girls.

A soft buzz interrupts my musing. It reminds me of sound coming through headphones attached to something left playing and abandoned—tinny sound rising and falling. For a time, this distracts me, but as it morphs into voices, words, sentences . . . I try so hard to focus on it, to tune in. And when I do, my father's voice is the first one I hear.

". . . not sure if anything can be done. That's why I didn't want to bring her here."

_Carlisle! _

"I disagree, and it's not fair to keep them apart. I've warned her." Esme's voice is strong and sure.

"But—"

"She's seen him this way before. It's her choice, Carlisle."

Carlisle sighs, a sign he's given in to my mother—a frequent occurrence in the Cullen family.

The door of the cottage opens—I know this because the front door tends to squeak when it's a quarter of the way open. Have they brought me home from Spain then? For a proper burial?

The first sensation since I awoke to the darkness rockets through me. I _feel_ my Isabella moving swiftly toward me, an oasis of warmth and love, a tangle of complex feelings.

"Edward . . . my Edward." Her angelic voice is bereft. She gasps before reaching me, and I can feel a barrier between us.

"Isabella, no." Carlisle's voice is gentle. "If you touch him . . . I fear the damage it might cause."

_Damage?_

"Let me see him!" There are tears choking her. I can't smell them, but somehow I feel them, tracing down her face like small rivers of pain. "_Please._"

"Are you sure . . . you can handle this?"

"He's my soul—you have to let me be here for him. It doesn't matter to me what condition he's in."

"All right."

The silence is so complete that I fear I've gone away again, and then a long, low moan comes from my beloved. "Dear God. What did that monster _do_ to him?" Her voice is close, so close I might feel her breath upon my face if I had one. "I want James dead. He can't be allowed to live." Venom drips from her usually kind and forgiving voice, shocking me.

"Surely you don't mean that," Carlisle admonishes in a gentle tone.

"I do. He's taken everything from me. Years of my life, two years of my daughter's life, and now . . . this. Is there nothing else you can do for him?"

"Isabella, I can't take any more blood from Hannah right now. There is one possibility, but I'm not certain it will work." Carlisle hesitates.

"What is it?"

"A synthetic version of Hannah's blood that I've been working on. The last batch came close but was a failure. A new idea struck me just before all this happened. I'm so close. If we can just keep him from degenerating any further, there's a chance, but I can't promise anything."

"Please . . . you have to try. I can't lose him." Isabella sniffles. "May I lie beside him?"

"I don't know . . ."

"I'll be gentle. I promise. I just have to be close to him."

"All right. I'll head back to the lab and get to work. Let me know if you need anything." Carlisle pauses, then his voice comes again, closer to me. "Son, I'll do everything I can to bring you back to us, to Isabella and Hannah."

Once Carlisle leaves, I hear the rustle of fabric as Esme takes Isabella in her motherly embrace. How I long to feel Esme's arms wrap around and comfort me, but even more, I long to hold my mate in my arms and tell her it will all be okay.

"Go to him, dear. He needs you as much as any cure."

"Y-You think so?"

"A mother knows these things. I'll leave you two alone. Just call if you need us."

"Thank you, Esme."

"Where's Hannah?"

The sound of my little girl's name tears at me. The thought of never seeing her adorable face, feeling her chubby little fingers entwined with mine, or the way she makes me feel like the most important man in the world, is unbearable.

"She's with Sue. I . . . I don't want her to see him like this." Isabella's voice breaks.

"I understand. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too."

"I will."

And now it's just Isabella and I in the room. Alone. I feel her as she moves closer, her breathing ragged.

As far as I know, I might simply be a ghost haunting my own carcass. Yet I feel the tentative way she approaches me and imagine her biting down on her pouty bottom lip as she considers how close to get.

I hear the slight creak as the mattress dips down when Isabella joins me on the bed. An accompanying heat radiates through my consciousness without any explanation of where exactly her warmth physically touches me.

"Oh, Edward. I'm so sorry. This is all because of me. You . . . you shouldn't be lying here like this, so broken."

Tears are coursing down her beautiful face again; I know this even though I have no senses other than hearing. In a way, I see her in my mind's eye, but she's pale and faded along with the rest of my surroundings. Perhaps I'm seeing things the way a human does, my heightened vampire senses having deserted me. After all, when my parents were here a few minutes ago, I didn't hear their thoughts, only what was said aloud.

"I miss you so much. I miss talking with you, looking into your eyes . . . I miss the way you touch me, as if I'm the most precious woman who ever existed."

_You are._

"When you left, half of my soul went with you, and now that you're back here, like this, I'm hanging by a thread. The only other thing holding me to this world is Hannah."

Isabella curls into a ball at my side, much the way she did in the cabin in Pennsylvania when she watched over me for days, waiting to see if I would die. Her body quivers with sobs she tries desperately to hold in. I curse whatever renders me able to _hear _her cries yet doesn't allow me to offer her comfort.

"This is so much worse than at the cabin, and we had such a small amount of Hannah's blood to feed you. Carlisle just has to make that synthetic formula work! I can't lose you, Edward. Please hear me. Please come back to me."

_I hear you, my Isabella. I'm trying to hold on. You're presence is like an anchor for me. Just don't let go._

Isabella's sobs gradually slow as she drifts toward sleep. "I love you," she mumbles as she goes under.

_And I love you._

While Isabella sleeps, I drift in darkness. The difference this time is the comforting halo of her warmth encircling me like an incubator.

The door to the cottage opens and the brawny steps of Emmett head my way. Air whistles between his teeth as he hesitates by the doorway, but he eventually sits in a chair beside the bed.

"Damn it, Eddie! I hope you can hear me. Fuck . . . I'm so sorry about this. I had a bad feeling about you going in there alone. Demetri tried to hold me back, the coward. Precious seconds were wasted fighting with him, and Hunter got away." Emmett growls and pounds a meaty fist into his palm. "Not that I was going after him once I saw . . . shit. Your chest was caved in, bro. Still is."

The memory of Hunter crushing my sternum comes back in vivid detail. His tainted blood had already weakened my body and halted its natural healing ability, so when he slammed his knee into my chest, it shattered like plaster.

"It was so hard to get you back here in one piece—your skin was so brittle! I did the best I could, I did. Demetri helped me get you down the mountain and onto the jet. Believe me, it was no easy feat hiding you from the crew. Rose smacked me on the back of the head for allowing you out of my sight. She's kicked me out of our bed, too." He sighs raggedly. "It doesn't matter, really, because all I think about is you and how fucking stupid I was. I hope you can forgive me someday. Shit, I hope you wake up and tell me yourself what an ass I am."

_There's nothing to forgive. I don't blame you at all, my brother._

"Alice is a fucking wreck . . ." Emmett hesitates, almost as though he said something he shouldn't have. "Get better, man. We need you."

At my side, Isabella stirs.

"Emmett?" Her voice is sleep laden. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just needed to talk. How are you holding up?"

"It's tough, I won't lie. I believe in his strength—in our strength."

"Atta girl."

"How's Alice?"

"The same."

There was the mention of Alice again. They both knew something I didn't.

"Rosalie?" Isabella asks gently.

"Still cold as ice. I deserve it."

"No. No, you don't. Edward is . . . Edward. He's fierce and stubborn and used to going it alone." Her tears start again, a soft rainfall, and she shifts around on the bed. "There's nobody else like him," she whispers.

The two of them sit in companionable silence together, supporting each other. After a while, Isabella's soft snores alert me that she's fallen back to sleep, and Emmett eventually leaves, promising to be back soon.

Time goes by. Days go by. I'm not sure about any of it because my vampire senses are off-line. I hear them moving around me, talking around me, but I can't respond, can't move.

Isabella is always by my side, except when someone, usually Rose or Esme, forces her to eat, bathe, brush her hair, take her injections. Every so often she leaves to be with Hannah for a few hours, and those times are the worst for me. The darkness swallows me whole, and each time, I wonder if I will ever break the surface again. She always returns to my side, her warmth a balm, her love an anchor.

Carlisle keeps testing the synthetic formula he's been talking about, but the frustration in his voice alludes to the fact he's beginning to wonder if he'll come up with the right formulation in time.

Rosalie comes to visit often but only for short bursts. She moves through the cottage like a panther, her claws always at the ready, always on edge. Esme is here daily but tries not to encroach on Isabella's privacy.

Alice only comes once.

When Alice arrives, the energy in the room changes; it's always that way with my vibrant sister. She hovers over me and whimpers softly.

"Edward?" she calls out like a frightened child lost in the dark. "Are you in there?"

_Yes, I'm here._

She gasps a moment later. "I'm sorry. I can't do this."

And then she's gone.

Jasper never comes, and nobody speaks of him. We made some semblance of peace before I left for Spain. Whatever our differences, he would come to visit me—if he were able to, that is. I've come to the conclusion that Jasper's not here.

My ruminations are interrupted by Rose striding in. I've always known the sound of everyone's footfalls, but having only one sense really does sharpen it. I understand now how some blind people might be mistaken for psychic.

"This has to stop. It's the middle of the afternoon and she's still in bed with him?" Rose mutters as she enters the bedroom.

Anger lashes through me because I recognize that tone—she's about to lay into Isabella, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Rose gasps instead. "Jesus! Isabella? _Isabella!_"

There's the faintest of mumbles next to me.

Rose fumbles with something. "Carlisle, get down here! Isabella's burning with fever." The sheets beside me rustle as she scoops Isabella into her arms. "Hold on. I'm going to get you into the tub."

Rose's footsteps retreat into the bathroom and she starts the water running full force into the tub. Isabella moans incoherently, and Rose encourages her to keep herself upright.

I'm completely helpless. I can't do anything to help my mate. I don't even know what's happening right beside me. More anger avalanches through me, and I want to fight my way home but I don't know how. How do you fight an unseen enemy with no hands? This must be what coma patients feel like.

I recall a time many years ago when I was visiting Carlisle at the hospital. On my way in, I heard braying cries that were going ignored. The pleas were so plaintive and heartfelt that my feet took me to that floor without thought. When I looked down the corridor, nobody was paying attention. They didn't seem to notice at all.

I poked my head into the room that was the source of the anguished screams and found a young woman lying still. There were monitors but no respirator, and an older woman sat beside the bed reading a book.

I waited until the older woman left and then slipped inside the room. The girl's screams had subsided to muffled cries, cries that were only in her mind because she had no mouth to speak with, no hands to touch with.

I took her hand in mine, but she didn't acknowledge the touch in her mind.

"Can you hear me?" I whispered.

The crying immediately faltered, a curious silence filling the space in between.

_Who's that?_

"My name is Edward. I heard you crying."

_What's happening to me? I hear everything around me, and I scream and scream, but nobody ever heard me until you._

"I know it sounds crazy, but I read minds."

_You think that sounds crazy when I'm in here screaming all day and night hoping someone will answer? Are you an angel?_

"Hardly." I laughed shortly. "But I can hear you. You're in a coma in Forks General."

I started visiting Molly whenever she was alone. We talked, mostly about her life or books and movies. Obviously, I avoided anything personal about me other than my name. She didn't seem to mind. I think she was afraid if she pushed too hard, I wouldn't come back. A few weeks later, she woke up. I wanted to stop in to visit her, show her she wasn't crazy, but it was too dangerous. I did send her a bouquet of roses just to let her know our moments together were real.

Carlisle and Esme rush into the cottage.

"Esme, bring this in to Rose. We need to up her dose of the Neupogen substitute. This can't go on much longer. The serum's been ready for over a week now."

"I know, dear, but she wants to wait for Edward."

"That won't do her any good if she's dead. I'm working as fast as I can on the synthetic blood to counteract the damage done to Edward, but I don't know if she's going to last that long."

"We have to believe, and we have to abide by her wishes. She doesn't want to be immortal without Edward."

Esme leaves the room to bring the syringe to Rose, and Carlisle huffs out a defeated sigh.

A sense of horror roars through me. Carlisle has the cure for Isabella, but she's refusing it because of me? She's waiting to see if I survive before saving herself?

No matter what I felt before, this is so much worse—to know my beloved's fate hinges on my recovery. More than ever, I want to find James Hunter and rip his black heart out while it still beats.

I think of Molly as my screams start. I know there's nobody to hear me, but like the inevitability of birth and death, of sunrise and sunset, there's no stopping them.

**~*RK*~**

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><p>AN: Oh, boy. As always, I love and crave your thoughts, theories, and comments. No doubt about it, things are going to get dicey over the next few chapters. I've been trying to update some of my other stories in addition to this one, so I apologize for any delays. The next chapter should post in approximately two weeks.

**I recently read _Ghostwriter_ by the talented Lissa Bryan. Stay tuned for news of my review of the book and the blog tour and e-book giveaway, coming to my blog in October.**

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	29. Chapter 29 Summoned

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! Thank you all so much for your encouraging reviews, PMs, and emails! You guys rock the hardest. Ready?**

**Moments behind Edward's eyes to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. I don't know what I'd do without these ladies. Mwah!**

**Huge thanks to my super awesome betas, Katmom and Sue (chayasara), for their mad skillz. They spoil me so goooood.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 29<strong>

**~Summoned~**

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><p><strong><em>Hell is empty, and all the devils are here. ~<em>William Shakespeare**

It's been three days since the bathtub incident. Carlisle has Isabella on a higher dose of the Neupogen substitute and has warned her multiple times that it's a very temporary measure. Each time, she yeses him, but I hear the stubborn edge in her voice. I know it all too well.

She talks to me when everyone is gone and we're alone, whispers her thoughts and fears and secrets while I lie here, silent on the outside, screaming on the inside. I want her to allow Carlisle to administer the serum, but she knows this. My girl knows me so well, I don't need to say the words out loud, and I know her well enough to know nobody can convince her otherwise once she's made up her mind.

Carlisle and Esme just left after giving Isabella her injection. She stretches on the bed alongside my body with a sigh. As always, her warmth sears my consciousness, the only sensation I've felt since Hunter shot me in the face with his "death ray."

"I know you're disappointed, Edward, and I'm truly sorry. But there's no way I'm going to live for eternity without you. Carlisle said the serum can only be used once, possibly twice, before my body stops responding to it. As my blood regenerates, the anomaly will return, and then it will become dangerous or simply ineffective to attempt turning me. I _won't_ take that chance. I can't." She sighs deeply, shifting next to me. "They keep trying to use Hannah to guilt me into it, but we don't know what kind of mother I'll be as a vampire—or even if I'll be able to be a part of her life without endangering her. Sue has already agreed to raise Hannah when . . . if I die. Please forgive me, my love, but I can't do this if you're not here. A normal human life without you is unappealing, so you can imagine how horrific the thought of eternity is."

_Yes, I can. But what if you die and then Carlisle cures me? What will I do without you?_ The thought causes such agony within my mind that I fear it will implode. I do understand how Isabella feels, why she's doing this. How can I argue against her decision when mine would likely be the same in her position? The selfish part of me doesn't believe a world should exist without her light, without her faith. She's the closest I've come in a century to meeting a saint.

"I'm strong, Edward—stronger than anyone knows. I'm not dying until I . . . know for sure. I refuse to let go of you as long as there's a chance you'll come back to me. Do you doubt me?"

_Not for a moment, sweet one. I never underestimate the wonder of you._

Isabella kisses my lips. I hear the soft sound they make against my stone ones and almost feel the petal soft warmth of her mouth against mine.

"Goodnight, sweet prince."

_Sleep well, my love._

The next morning, after Isabella has finished breakfast, Rose shows up to administer the Neupogen substitute. She checks Isabella's temperature, which has remained stable since the medication increase.

"There. How are you feeling? Any bone pain or chills?"

"No, I feel pretty good." Isabella's voice is not convincing.

"Tell me what's wrong." Rose's tone is gentle but demanding.

"It's just . . . I miss him. Maybe this sounds incredibly weak, but I need him." By the breaks in her voice, I can tell she's crying.

"I know, honey. We all want him back, but you _need_ him back. When Emmett was gone, part of me was missing, too."

"I'm not giving up. Carlisle's aggravated with me, but I know what I'm doing." The stubborn is back.

"Isabella, you have to understand that Carlisle is a healer, first and foremost. He has an ingrained need to save lives. Right now, he can't save Edward, and you're road blocking him from saving you. Deep down, he gets you. We all do."

"Thank you for that."

"Not that what any of us say or do would budge you one iota. You're made of strong stuff." There's a great deal of admiration in my sister's voice, and my heart swells with love for them both.

I feel it when Rose stiffens beside me. The atmosphere in the room changes from loving admiration to cold steel. Isabella gasps, sensing it, too. Once again, I curse the fact that I'm paralyzed and without my keen senses.

A moment later, the front door slams open. The rushing sound of many feet converges upon the bedroom.

"Fuck. It's time," Rose mutters.

"Already?" Isabella whispers. So she knows what's happening, too.

"Esme, take Isabella to Sue's as planned. Quickly! We haven't much time." Carlisle's voice is brusque. He has an innate instinct to be polite, and this is a further indicator that something serious is afoot. "Emmett, go with them."

"No way, Carlisle." Emmett's fist smacks into his palm.

"Go!"

"Em, do what he says. It's imperative that we protect Isabella and Hannah." Rose is the voice of reason.

"Okay, babe. Be careful."

"You, too. I love you."

"Come, Isabella," Esme urges.

"Okay." Isabella leans in close to kiss me. "I love you forever, Edward."

_What the hell going on? Why is Carlisle in such a panic?_

"Carlisle . . ." For the first time, I hear true fear in my mother's voice.

"Try not to worry. I'll see you soon, my heart." I imagine Carlisle cupping a hand around Esme's face.

"I love you. Be careful."

Emmett and Esme escort Isabella from the cottage. I can tell from Isabella's dragging footfalls that she's reluctant to leave me, but she allows herself to be spirited away. If Carlisle's behavior didn't convince me that something was terribly wrong, her willingness to go without argument clinches it for me.

A tense silence falls over the room. I've been in stasis for enough time that I no longer fear disappearing; I'm anxious to know what the hell is going on.

"Are you all prepped?" Carlisle asks.

"Yep."

"Any last minute questions? We have two minutes."

"No, I've got it covered. Are you sure . . . this will work out?"

"Nope. But what other choice do we have, Rose?"

"None, I suppose. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. It's time." Carlisle's medical bag is unzipped, and plastic rustles. "Rose, I need you to assist me. We need to give him enough to correct the damage." His voice has changed—it's now businesslike and brusque.

"Okay, just direct me . . . I'm not sure how to do this." There's a false note of insecurity in Rose's tone.

_What in the world is going on?_

"I'm going to dose this out based on my calculations . . . but be prepared to hold him down if necessary."

"Got it."

My confusion grows as I listen to them talk. Both of them sound almost wooden, as if they're spewing rehearsed lines. The abrupt change in the conversation is mind-boggling, and once again, I'm frustrated that I can't simply read their minds and find out what's happening.

As it turns out, I haven't long to wait for part of the mystery to be resolved.

An authoritative knock sounds upon the front door, one that leaves no margin for misunderstanding—whoever is on the other side expects a rapid response.

"Can you see who that is, Rose? And tell them we're in the middle of something."

Carlisle's words are immediately followed by another insistent knock, and before Rose has a chance to leave the room, a deep voice addresses him. "Carlisle Cullen, you will cease and desist whatever you're doing in the name of the Volturi."

"Shit," Rose mutters.

_The Volturi?_

"I'll handle this." Carlisle is calmer and leaves the room at an almost human pace. When he opens the front door, his tone is tight. "Felix, Alec, Jane, to what do I owe a visit all the way from Italy? Is Aro with you as well?"

"No, Aro sends his regrets." Felix's deep baritone fills the small cottage. "However, he would like to see you, so I need you to come with us."

"Okay. I can be there in a week or so. I just need to clear my—"

"No. Now." And then Felix's voice is closer, in my room. "Poor Edward. What a state he's in, eh? Can't use his smart mouth like _that_, now can he?" His cruel laugh makes me wish I were faking.

_Fuck you, Neanderthal. Volturi muscle—the only reason they keep your sorry ass around._

"Felix, be reasonable."

"You're skating on thin ice, Cullen. Aro should have been informed about the . . . _project_ you've been working on, a threat to our very race—and you didn't see fit to let the Volturi know? Gather your cure and your notes. You're coming with us."

"Do you need some convincing?" Jane's amused voice breaks in. "Alec and I haven't had much fun of late."

"That won't be necessary. At least let me administer the cure to Edward first."

"No. You and your coven will be far more cooperative this way." Felix's haughty tone sends another jolt of anger blazing through me.

"You can't do that!" Rose doesn't make it two steps toward our guests before she drops to the floor with a strangled scream that quickly grows into a high-pitched wail.

"Stop! Jane, stop!" Carlisle yells. "I'll come willingly. There's no need to harm anyone."

"All right, then. Tell tigress here before she gets more than she bargained for."

"Enough!" Felix puts an end to the discussion, his tone final. "Get your shit and let's go. We need to visit your lab before we leave. All records and journal entries are now property of the Volturi and must accompany us back to Volterra."

"What about Edward?" Carlisle persists.

"His fate, and yours, will be decided by Aro. No more discussion. Jane, Alec, if anyone gets in our way, dispense with them. Aro's orders."

The Volturi bustle my father and sister out of the cottage on their way to the main house to pillage Carlisle's weeks of meticulous research. And yet, something isn't right. Carlisle knew they were coming, and I have to believe that means he made some kind of contingency plan.

For three hours, I slowly go insane. I worry about my father and the rest of my family, about Isabella and Hannah, about my own precarious fate. It's obvious James made it to Italy and blew the whistle, but how much does Aro know? Were they even now corralling Isabella, and maybe even Hannah, to bring back to Italy? The thought causes a sourceless but intense pain to radiate through me. The inability to protect my girls rankles, but I have to believe if Carlisle had some advance notice, he also had a plan.

The door of the cottage opens slowly, and I snap to attention.

"You're so damn stubborn! I'm going to get my ass kicked if it's too soon." Emmett attempting a stage whisper is amusing to say the least.

"Get out of my way, Emmett. I'll take full responsibility, okay? Surely you wouldn't manhandle a sick human."

Isabella. Thank God.

Her warmth envelops me as she sinks down beside me with a relieved sigh. "My Edward."

"Shit. It doesn't matter how long he's been this way; it never gets any easier to see. Fuck." I imagine Emmett scrubbing his huge paw over his face, as he tends to do when stressed out.

"It shouldn't be much longer though, right?" Isabella's voice is full of hope.

"Shouldn't be. Rosie and the pixie are working as fast as they can."

"Do you know how it works? Will he . . . will he be himself again? Can this damage heal?"

"Carlisle seems to think so. I just hope he did the right thing double-crossing he Volturi. They ain't exactly forgiving, you know?"

Even within my addled mind, some of the pieces begin to click together. Carlisle knew the Volturi were coming, so he hoodwinked them. The scene with Rose was all an act for their benefit, so they would go on their merry way and my family could bring out the real cure. The big question is how Carlisle will keep that information from being discovered once Aro touches him?

"What will they do?"

"Um . . ." Emmett hedges, obviously reluctant to tell Isabella the ugly truth. I know she won't let him off so easy.

"What happens, Emmett?"

"We all die."

Isabella is silent beside me for a moment before answering. "Things will just have to go as planned then. We always have our secret weapon."

"Secret weapon?"

"The wolves. James and the Volturi don't know about the wolves."

"Yeah, but the wolves don't give a shit about us."

"But they do give a shit about me—and Hannah. If it comes down to it, they'll fight."

"Good news!" Emmett interrupts. "I hear the girls coming. They want me to go out there with Esme and patrol the area, just to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Okay."

"I sure as shit hope you're right about the wolves—we need every advantage we can get."

Emmett's footfalls retreat and less than a minute later, Rose and Alice enter. Alice's tread is tentative, very unlike her. Then again, it was uncharacteristic of her to avoid visiting me, too.

"Isabella, are you feeling okay?" Rose asks.

"Yes. Please, just tell me what's going on! And Edward . . . he'll want to hear this, too."

"First, let me apologize again." Alice's words are dripping with sorrow. "I love Edward, and I've missed him so. When his future went black, when _yours_ went black, I couldn't handle it. It was cowardly of me to stay away."

"Alice, I'm not angry with you, and I know Edward will understand. Please stop beating yourself up about it."

I can't find it within me to be angry with Alice. Knowing how completely she relies on her gift, it must have been nearly impossible to function without it. Couple that with the separation from her mate, and I'm surprised she's been able to hold herself together at all.

"You're too kind. I only hope Edward will be up and around to give me a hard time soon. Rose and I worked together to find the right version of Carlisle's cure."

"And you've found it?"

"Yes. Rose kept deciding to give Edward a certain version, and I would 'see' what effect it had. We finally came up with the right combination."

"Didn't Carlisle know which one was the cure?"

"Nope. Once I saw the Volturi coming, we decided to run the experiments in a cell-type structure. None of us had all the pieces." Alice sounds pleased with herself, and I can't say I'm not relieved.

"How did you know Carlisle didn't take the real cure to Italy then?"

"Early on we put aside one that didn't work. Carlisle kept coming up with new ideas, but he never got to see which ones were successful. It made for some frustration when he was stuck on an element that needed to be eliminated, but it kept anyone from knowing the winning formulation. We used an elaborate color and numbering system for each piece of the puzzle."

"This is all really nice, but can we try to fix Edward already?" Rose cuts in impatiently. "You can preen about this while he's healing."

"Yes, of course. Are you okay, Rose?" Alice sounds duly chastised.

"I'm fine! This has just been . . . really stressful."

I suspect the tangle with Jane earlier is haunting Rose. I've never experienced Jane's power myself, but I hear it's brutal—especially for a being that is unused to feeling pain. I'm fascinated by the process my family went through to come up with the cure, but I'd much rather hear about it after they administer it, as Rose suggested.

"Isabella, are you prepared for this? Would you rather leave the room?" Rose asks in a gentler tone. She really seems to have a soft spot for my mate.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. Don't forget, I've been through this with him before."

_Yes, you have, my love. You stayed by my side through everything and never gave up._ A feeling of pride wells up inside me. We may be immortals with an unimaginable strength behind us, but Isabella is just as strong in her own right.

I hear liquid being shaken in a container, and then Rose says, "Here goes nothing . . ."

It's different from the time in the cabin. At first, the only way I know Rose has poured something into my mouth is through their conversation, but ever so slowly, my taste buds activate. Synthetic blood does _not_ taste good. If I didn't know this was saving my life, I'd try to spit it out. The rancid taste causes me to think of ancient dirt, squirming maggots, and worms that have left their element to writhe on the pavement to die. When my gag reflex comes back on line, it's all I can do not to spew the cure back out. I relax my throat, allowing the thin, unnatural liquid to coat the inside as it slides down.

My fingers twitch uncontrollably, soon joined by every muscle in my body. My legs shake, my abs ripple, my arms shudder, muscles in my face tic, and the lids of my eyes fly open of their own accord. Like a newborn baby, I only see blurs and shadows.

The entire room and everyone in it have disappeared from my radar. I am turned so far inward, all attention focused on the changes in my body, that I have no idea what's happening outside of me.

And then the pain starts.

I find my voice, hoarse cries surrounding and echoing inside my head. Screaming hurts and feels cathartic at the same time. The shuddering takes over my entire being until I think the very teeth might rattle right out of my mouth.

Has something gone wrong? Did they give me the wrong formulation after all?

An undeterminable amount of time later, my movements are restricted. I thrash and fight, afraid of being put back into that miserable cage of silence. The pain becomes a welcome sensation; it means I'm alive, that something is happening. I cleave to the crawling sensation spreading under my flesh, and I'm finally able to sense the others around me.

"Isabella, stay back! You could get hurt," Rose snaps. The closeness of her voice suggests she's the restriction across my upper body.

"Edward would never hurt me. He needs me, Rose."

"Of course he does, sweetie, but he's not in control right now. Be patient, okay?" Alice's soothing voice comes from the bottom of the bed where she must be sitting on my jittery legs.

Isabella sighs but doesn't argue. "Edward, I'm here. I'm right here. You're doing so well, baby."

Her words wrap around me like a soothing blanket, and I focus on her voice, attempting to ignore everything else. She continues to coo to me without fail; it's as if she knows this is just what I need to lead me out of the dark. I calm, my body calms, and my vision slowly returns. It's far from vampire quality, but I see Rose sitting on my chest, her long blonde hair flowing over her narrow shoulders, one lock almost tickling the end of my nose. Shifting my aching eyes to the right, I finally see my goddess.

"Isa . . . bella," I whisper. It takes a lot of effort to coax my lips to form her name.

Her eyes are already on me. They've probably been on me for hours. Isabella sits on a chair against the wall, wringing her hands. She's paler and thinner than I remember, with dark shadows beneath her warm brown eyes, and the clothes hang off her slight body. She's the most welcome sight that has ever graced my eyes.

"Come here . . . beautiful."

Tears fill her eyes, and she hurtles across the room, pushing Rose out of the way. Then her arms are around me, her face buried in my neck. "Oh, Edward, thank God!"

Warm drops of salt dampen my skin, and I want nothing more than to taste my beloved's tears on my tongue. My arms tremble violently, but I manage to slip them around Isabella and cradle her against my chest. She sobs against my skin, her fingers clawing at me.

"Let me . . . see you."

Isabella lifts her head. Up close, her eyes are sunken and her cheekbones sharp with purplish hollows beneath. Tears stream freely over the contours of her face.

"Oh, God. It's so good to feel your arms holding me." Isabella's lids flutter closed as she presses her lips to mine, light as a feather.

I tighten my hold around her frail body, crushing her to me. Our mouths move together, fitting perfectly as they always have. Her falling tears mingle between our joined lips, the tang finally soothing the vile taste of synthetic blood from my tongue.

Our kisses slow, and Isabella rests her head on my chest. I run my hands all over her softness to assure myself this is real.

"Isabella, I love you so much."

"I love you, too. I'm so relieved that you're back."

"You kept me sane the whole time." I stroke my fingers through her hair, the movements more precise now.

"It was so hard to see you lying there . . . crushed. I prayed you could hear my words, or at least feel my love for you. It's simply remarkable how your body healed once Rose fed you the cure."

"I heard you talking to me. Your warmth was the only sensation I felt the whole time, and it kept me anchored here. You saved me." I press my lips to the top of her head, loving the feel of her silken hair. I've never taken Isabella for granted, but I know the moments we touch will forever be even more precious to me now.

"I'm so glad. I'd do anything for you."

"Do you mean that?" I kiss her temple, tangling my fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck.

"Of course I do."

"Then let them give you the serum."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Oh, boy. What are you guys thinking? One of my favorite things is reading your reactions, so talk to me.**

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	30. Chapter 30 Aventum Mutationis

**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry this chapter has been delayed. We were directly hit by Hurricane Sandy and were without power for a week, Internet for even longer. Thanks to all of you who sent encouraging emails, PMs, and tweets! That really warms my heart.**

**Edward snuggles to Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, my angelrific pre-readers, for their unending support and friendship.**

**Extra special thanks to my awesome betas, Katmom and Sue (chayasara), for always making time for me in their busy schedules. They catch all my recurring foibles and help smooth out the prose. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

**~Adventum Mutationis~**

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><p><em><strong>All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;<strong>_

_**for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves.**_

_**We must die to one life before we can enter another.**_

**~ Anatole France**

My sisters slip from the room as I continue to stroke Isabella's hair and wait for her to look into my eyes. The strands aren't as lank and lifeless as when we met, but they've lost the new luster achieved with Carlisle's Neupogen substitute. We knew all along his concoction would only prolong the inevitable, but it pains me to feel the evidence beneath my fingertips and witness it with my returning vision. Her cheek remains pressed against my chest and she sighs softly.

"Isabella, I heard things. I know Carlisle's had the serum ready for a while now, and I also know the Neupogen substitute is no longer working." I place a kiss on the crown of her head, keeping my voice soft and nonjudgmental. "I understand you didn't want to make the choice without knowing if I would survive . . . but I'm here now."

Isabella trembles against me and raises her head. Her soulful brown eyes tear up. "I'm sorry, Edward . . . it might be too late. I'll do it. I'll let them give me the serum."

"Don't say that, sweet one. It's _not_ too late."

"I hope not."

"Let me look at you." I sweep her hair back, cupping her head between my palms. "It's so good to be able to see you again . . . and feel your warmth in my arms. It drove me crazy to be trapped inside myself unable to respond."

She ducks her head and tugs at her hair. "I look awful. You must be wondering what you ever saw in me."

"Did you love me less when I was damaged?"

"Of course not!" Her cheeks redden with ire, the kittenish anger part of her charm.

"Then why do you think I'd find you any less alluring when you're unwell?" My strength is still in the process of returning, but I'm feeling better minute by minute. I scoop her in my arms and sit up against the headboard.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so weak and fragile . . . ugly." Her voice shakes, and she looks down at her lap.

"Isabella, I never want to hear words like that from your mouth again." I press my lips to her ear and soften my voice to remove the sting of my tone. "You're beautiful—oh, so beautiful. You're the sole reason I care if the sun comes up each day or if the stars remain in the sky. You are the reason I survived this ordeal at all."

Isabella tips her head up and smiles at me; her fingers explore my face lightly—almost as if she fears I'm still in danger of breaking. I trap her hand against my face, pressing it harder to my skin. "I won't disintegrate beneath your fingertips. I'm never leaving your side again."

Her tears fall in earnest. Shudders wrack her small frame, her shoulders quaking as the sobs are wrenched from deep within. It's as if she's been holding it all at bay for so long and the dam finally burst, allowing her emotions to come barreling out. She grips the front of my shirt and presses her face into my neck, her tears scalding my skin. "I'm so glad . . . you're okay. I didn't know what to do . . . how to go on. I know it's selfish of me, but I couldn't stand the thought of a moment of existence without you." Her voice hiccups, giving out.

"Shh . . . it's okay, my love. I understand better than you might think."

Isabella pulls back to look at me, her tearful eyes softening with understanding. It seems she's finally realized how I've felt about her all along. Perhaps she couldn't fully understand until the threat of losing me for good was a reality.

Rosalie walks into the room, an apologetic expression on her face. "I'm sorry to break up the reunion, but we've got to move."

"Move?" I question, tucking Isabella's head under my chin.

"Well, surely you don't think we're staying here?" Rosalie looks at me as if I'm daft. "Once the Volturi discover Carlisle brought them a fake cure, they'll be all over this place."

"Was this all planned?"

"Partially. Let's just say Carlisle left the planning to me. He wanted to remove himself from it as much as possible to avoid giving anything away to that . . . sicko Aro." Her lip curls in disdain. She starts flying around the room, opening and closing drawers, stuffing Isabella's clothing into a duffel bag before heading into the bathroom to grab her toiletries.

Isabella remains curled against me, heartbeat steady. She knows about this already; otherwise, there would be pulse and adrenaline spikes. No, she's extremely calm now that her tears have dried.

"You knew?" I ask her.

"Yes. I've been in on the planning with Rose and Alice from the beginning." When she lifts her head to look into my eyes this time, there's a steely determination there. Gone is the weeping human that called herself an ugly duckling, and in her place is a fierce lioness ready for battle.

Alice returns, silently going through the closet and returning with an armload of my clothing. Her eyes are solemn, and she averts her gaze whenever our eyes meet. Shame radiates off her, but I don't know its source because I still can't read her mind.

Part of me prays my gift will return while another, almost equal part, hopes it doesn't. It's a burden to know the contents of the minds around me—to be forced to pick through the vile drudge of another's thoughts is a high price to pay for the times those thoughts are kind, charitable, or beautiful. So often the thoughts of humans are full of raw ugliness and hatred.

Finally, everything is packed. Emmett and Esme come to say goodbye, but they're not coming with us. The two of them will leave a trail of breadcrumbs for the Volturi to follow, hopefully leading them away from us long enough for our mission to be completed, whatever it is. I know why Alice is coming with us—because of her second sight—but I wonder why Rose and not Emmett or Esme.

Esme smiles and takes Isabella's hand. "I have a surprise before you go." She races to the front door and brings in Sue and Hannah.

"Mama!" Hannah hurls herself into Isabella's arms. When she sees me over her mother's shoulder, her big brown eyes grow even wider. "Edwood!"

Isabella sets her down and she flings herself onto my lap, throwing her chubby arms around my neck and placing wet kisses all over my face. "Nana missed you, Edwood! I knew you'd come home!"

"I missed you, too, princess. More than I can ever say." Her warmth seeps under my skin, spreading through my entire body. I cradle her in my arms, hating what I need to tell her. "Listen, Hannah . . . your mom and I need to go away for a little while. It's so she can be cured of her illness."

"Grandpa Carl found the magic potion?"

"You could call it that, yes. It will make your mom all better, but it might take a while. We need to go somewhere private."

"Yes, baby." Isabella joins in, kneeling next to the bed and rubbing Hannah's back. "Mama might be a little . . . different, but she won't be sick anymore. Grandma Sue will take care of you while we're gone, okay?"

"You'll be with Edwood?" Hannah asks uncertainly, looking back and forth between us.

"Yes, the whole time."

When she looks to me, I nod.

"Okay, Nana stay with Grandma Sue."

Hannah curls up in my arms and falls asleep, her warm little breaths puffing against my clavicle. How I miss the sweet, sweet smell of baby shampoo, apple juice, and animal crackers. Eventually, Sue comes over to lift her from my arms, and I let go reluctantly.

"Thank you for all you've done for my girls, Edward," Sue says graciously. "I'm so glad to see you on the mend."

"Thank you, Sue. I'd do anything for them."

"That's apparent." She glances over at Isabella, who's deep in conversation with Alice just outside the bedroom door, before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "Will you change her now? And what will happen when she smells Hannah?"

"Yes, we're going to change her as soon as possible. I wish I had an answer for you, but I'm just not sure what will happen once she's been turned. Unfortunately, we don't have the luxury of waiting until Hannah's older."

Sue nods sagely. "If there's anything at all I can do . . . just say the word."

Isabella's eyes soften with love when Sue pauses to say goodbye, and she leans over to kiss Hannah's cheek and stroke the fine strands of her hair. Hannah's face is slack as she slumbers in Sue's arms with the perfect trust that only a child can manage.

Once they're gone, Isabella sits on my lap with her arms around my neck and lays her head on my shoulder. "I hope this is all over soon and I can be with you and Hannah."

"I have the same hope." I hold her to me and rock us back and forth.

A few hours later, we're on the road. Rose drives with Alice as co-pilot, and I sit in the back with Isabella. We board the Cullen jet, land in Georgia, and drive the rest of the way to Pennsylvania—right back to Uncle Lou's cabin.

"You told Angela you're alive." I look askance at Isabella.

"Yes. While you were languishing, I made an executive decision." Her chin comes up in that defiant little way she has.

"Okay."

"Okay? No lecture?"

"I trust your judgment." I can't help but smile.

"Well . . . it's about time." Isabella nods firmly.

The terrain around the cabin looks different without crystalline prisms of snow bejeweling the trees and bushes. The ground is saturated from the runoff of many feet of snowfall, and blades of green grass are just beginning to erupt from the pine needle covered soil. Golden rays of light tip the edges of the trees and bushes, while deep shadows remain in the secret crevices the canopy of their branches and leaves create below. The cabin itself looks much the same, and the sight brings with it a sense of nostalgia. This is where I first came upon Isabella, where she tricked me into thinking she was inside humming when, in fact, she was busy leveling a shotgun at me. Where she fed me her tainted blood and then nursed me back to health with Hannah's. Where I first discovered she was my mate.

Alice turns and winks at me. "Isn't this the perfect place to change her, Edward?"

"Are you certain nobody knows about it?"

Alice gives me her patented are-you-for-real look and refuses to answer.

Once the car comes to a smooth stop, Isabella stretches with a sleepy yawn. "We're here!" Her smile and the wonder in her eyes as she gazes around causes a clenching in my chest.

I focus on getting her settled in, leaving my very capable sisters to bring in the luggage and secure the perimeter of the property. It's hard to admit, but although my strength is up to about ninety percent, my vampire senses are still inadequate. My hearing and vision, although much more acute than a human's, is deficient for vampire standards. There's no sign of my mind reading ability, and I'm beginning to think it might not come back.

It takes me under a minute to empty the cooler, stock the refrigerator with food, and head upstairs to put Isabella's clothes in the dresser and closet. As I finish up, Isabella is just wandering into the bedroom. She trails her fingers over the duvet and glances out the window that faces the rising sun.

"The sun used to wake me in the mornings. I'd leave the blind up so I'd be enveloped in its warmth as it rose higher in the sky." She points between two trees where a perfect V of blue nestles between. "It's as if that was made to be the perfect natural alarm clock."

Coming up from behind, I sweep her hair to the side and press my lips against the warm skin on the back of her neck. She shivers with pleasure and sighs sweetly, leaning back into my waiting arms. Her hands grab onto my arm, pulling it closer to her breast, and we lean on the window frame and watch a family of cardinals making a home in the top of a tree as the sun climbs higher in the sky. The male bird squawks at me once, his chattering making his displeasure over my presence known, but they continue their work. Isabella oohs and ahs over them, narrating every move they make as if I'm not here to observe for myself. No matter—I find everything this woman does to be endearing.

"Lunch!" Alice calls up the stairs.

I lead Isabella by the hand, linking our fingers, and we descend the stairs together. The rustic wooden table in the kitchen is set up with a tureen of soup and a platter of sandwiches—ham, turkey, roast beef, and chicken salad. There's a pot of Isabella's favorite tea and a pitcher of ice cold milk—by the slight layer of cream on top, I know it's whole milk and bet it's organic, too. Alice flits around the table like a wood sprite, ladling out soup and pointing out sandwich and beverage choices. I roll my eyes and open my mouth to scold her about the ridiculous display, but a bubble of laughter from my mate halts me.

Isabella squirms in her chair, reminiscent of a delighted child, and places a hand over her mouth. Her eyes are so lively. "Alice, this is wonderful! It's too much for one girl, really, but I simply love it!"

I sit with Isabella while she consumes two bowls of minestrone, half of a chicken salad sandwich, and half of a roast beef sandwich, licking her fingers and complimenting Alice the whole time. It's the most I've seen her eat since we met—the most hope I've seen blossom in her eyes.

When Isabella proclaims she can't eat one more bite, I rub my hand over her nearly concave belly and ask where she put it all, eliciting another round of giggling.

I begin to wonder where my sisters have gotten off to when the two of them enter the periphery of the kitchen, two shadows over a happy moment. Their faces are business-like now.

"It's time." Rose looks only at Isabella as if I don't exist. They've obviously spoken of this event in some detail because Isabella shudders perceptibly before shaking it off and nodding.

"Where should we do this?"

"The bedroom would be best I think." Rose glances over at me. "You should be there, too."

I glare at her incredulously. "Where else would I be? Is there something I need to know about this?"

"No—" Isabella starts.

"It's going to hurt," Rose interrupts, her tone flat.

Isabella glares at her. "I asked you not to."

"Request denied."

I glance between my fierce sister and my apparently equally fierce mate. "Would the two of you care to fill me in?"

"The serum is going to hurt like hell. She might get a fever and some bone pain. Isabella thinks you're too fragile to hear the truth."

"I don't think he's too fragile, Rose! I just didn't want to upset him unnecessarily. We really don't know _what_ effect the serum is going to have on me. Carlisle said everyone is different."

My sister rolls her eyes. "Tomato, tomahto."

I grasp Isabella's hand, rubbing my thumb over the back of it. "I'm okay, you know. Nothing is going to send me back to that place where I was all that time."

She gazes into my eyes, the tears gathering in hers. "How did you know I was worried about that?"

"I just did." I pull my chair out, inviting her onto my lap, and she curls around me, pressing her cheek against mine. "I'm with you, Isabella. Seeing you in any kind of distress will be difficult for me, but I'm here all the way."

"I love you, Edward." She turns her face and kisses my lips softly.

"As I love you." I look deep into her eyes. "Are you ready?" I see the answer in them. She is.

Up in the bedroom, Rose has everything prepared. There are extra blankets and bedding, a cooler of ice packs, and spare pajamas. From another portable cooler, she pulls out three large syringes filled with bright red fluid. I hear Alice bustling around the kitchen downstairs and wonder if she's squeamish about the process.

Isabella lies down on the bed, propped up by several fluffy pillows. She's wearing thin cotton pajama pants in a pink and green floral print and a pale pink tank top. I worry that she'll be too cold, but Rose assures me this is the way to begin.

Rose kneels on the floor beside the bed and takes Isabella's hand. "You remember all that we discussed?" When Isabella nods, she continues, "Do you have any questions before we begin?"

"No. Let's do this." She smiles bravely.

Swiping an alcohol pad over the fold of Isabella's arm, Rose inserts the first syringe and applies slow, steady pressure to the plunger, pushing the neon red liquid straight into the vein. Holding the needle steady, she pops out one cartridge and fits another in place so she doesn't have to stick Isabella multiple times.

"Okay, done. If you feel anything out of the ordinary at all, speak up." Rose glances up at me where I stand rigidly against the wall beside the bed. "Edward, she'll probably start with a fever and intense heat and sweating. That will progress to possible shaking and chills. If the fever goes too high, we need to pack her with ice, and if she becomes too cold, warmer clothing, more blankets. Her body is about to wage a war against that chromosome in her blood, and you have to understand this is not your garden variety fever and chills."

"Got it." My tone is clipped, and I try to rein in my anger. Perhaps Rose didn't abide by Isabella's wishes completely, but she left me out of the loop on the details long enough that it's too late to question the procedure. Of course we have no other choice. I'd take any chance, however small, to keep Isabella alive, but I feel as if I'm being treated with kid gloves.

Isabella peers up at me cautiously, and the fear in her eyes decides it for me—I can't upset her now. My anger washes away on a wave of love and concern for my mate, and my posture relaxes as I fold myself down to the bed and lean against the pillows beside her. I take her hand and place a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Whatever you need, sweet one. Lean on me through this, okay?"

"Thank you, Edward." She rewards me with a beatific smile worthy of angels and drifts to sleep.

An hour later, Isabella's fingers claw around mine convulsively and beads of sweat break out on her pallid skin. Her eyes fly open in a cry of pain. She's throwing some heat, but it's not more than a mild fever. Her back arches, and she turns her head my way, eyes frightened. "Edward, it hurts . . ."

"Where, my love?" I caress her face, offering her steady eyes full of confidence to look into.

"My bones—" she gasps out.

Before I can open my mouth, Rose is right there with a glass of water and a white pill. "Swallow this. It won't kill the pain entirely, but it'll take the edge off."

Isabella sits up with my assistance and swallows the pill gratefully. "Thanks."

Rose presses a hand to Isabella's forehead. "Only about 101 right now. Edward, if her temp gets above 102, you need to pack her with ice. The ideal range is to keep her temp between 100 and 102 through the entire process."

"Okay." I pull Isabella closer, and she rests her head on my shoulder, draping an arm over my stomach. "Rest and don't worry about anything."

"I'm not worried. I'm in the best of hands."

Two hours later, the fever spikes to 102.5 and I grab ice packs from the cooler, tucking them around her torso. Alice enters the room for the first time with a wet washcloth for Isabella's forehead.

"Have you seen anything?" I ask.

"She'll be fine."

"You hesitated."

Alice grimaces. "I can't always see her clearly because of the wolf chromosome. It's murky, but I think she's going to be fine."

I nod, relaxing again. "Carlisle?"

"One big blank so far."

When Isabella's temperature goes lower and her body shudders with chills, we bundle her up with extra blankets. Over the next forty-eight hours we traverse a delicate balance, keeping her body at the prime temperature range for the serum to work its magic. Toward the end, when her fever is raging once again, Isabella grows ornery and throws off the ice packs. Rather than restrain her and chance injuring her fragile body, I strip my shirt off and she settles against me with a contented sigh. At least I'm useful as an ice pack.

When the sun rises on day three, Isabella's temperature has returned to normal. Rose proclaims this okay now because the "burning in" process should be complete. I help Isabella into the bathroom where Alice has drawn her a bath, and she sinks into the fragrant water with a sigh, her lids fluttering closed. I bathe her and massage shampoo into her long tresses, fully enjoying taking care of my mate, and Isabella accepts my attention gratefully.

Rose and Alice air out the bedroom and change the bedding, while Isabella soaks in the tub. The scent of fresh pine needles wafts in on the breeze from the open window, bringing with it the essence of spring. I blow-dry Isabella's hair, enjoying the silken feel of it running through my fingers, then bundle her in a fluffy robe and carry her down the stairs and out to the front porch. I set her on the rustic wooden bench, and Alice brings her a steaming bowl of oatmeal and a cup of tea.

"How do you feel?" I ask, after she's finished half of her breakfast.

"Like I've been hit by a truck and pieced back together." She smiles, a spark of hope in her eyes. "But I feel different at a deep level. Do you think I'm imagining it?"

"I'm sure you're not."

Rose joins us on the porch, probably because of our conversation. She leans on the edge of the railing and smiles. "We'll start drawing blood daily from here on out, Isabella. You did exceptionally well through the process—now we just wait for prime time."

"Prime time?" Isabella questions.

"Once your blood reaches its optimum level in seven to ten days, we change you."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Thoughts, theories, opinions? Next chapter, I'll be announcing the winning flavor for Emmett's Party Pack! *wink***

**Next story to update will be _I Want It Painted Black._  
><strong>

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	31. Chapter 31 Until I Exist No More

**A/N: Hey, everyone! I hope you've all had a joyous holiday season filled with love. My apologies for the long wait for this chapter, but hopefully you'll think it was worth it. *wink***

**Huge thanks and fondles from Edward go to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea.**

**As always, my awesome betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), smoooooth out my words and make awesome suggestions to make the story flow better. I'm a lucky, lucky (spoiled) gal. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 31<strong>

**~Until I Exist No More~**

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><p><em><strong>I have looked into your eyes with my eyes.<strong>_

_**I have put my heart near your heart.**_

_**~Pope John XXIII**_

My teeth sink into the neck of a buck, my iron hold wrestling him into submission, and I drink him dry before going after another. No images accompany either feeding.

Alice brought me hunting. Since the nearest neighbor is several miles away, we can take down some nearby animals without a problem.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I hate this watered-down slop?" I ask, swiping my mouth with the back of one hand.

"It's not that bad, Edward. You always were a drama boy, though." Alice stares off into the distance as she answers, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Your _mate_ is the original drama boy, not me. Excuse me if I'm a _vampire_ and enjoy the sweet bouquet of my natural food source."

Alice's head swivels my way, her eyes boring into me in that way she has—the one that makes you think _she's _the mind reader and can see right through your façade. "Do you enjoy taking lives, Edward?"

My ire rises to the surface once again. Why must I be continually challenged about the way I choose to live my life? Without thinking about it, I pounce on Alice, pinning her to the ground. Her wide eyes tell me I took her completely by surprise, too.

I lean my face down until we're nose to nose and glare at her. "You have _no idea_ what it does to me when I kill an animal. Aside from the substandard, watered-down taste, I have to witness the last images in their minds. This is the most carefree meal I've experienced in decades—only because I still can't read thoughts. So don't you dare start on me with the high and mighty Cullen code of conduct."

A feral growl rips out of me as I leap over her and slam into a tree. There's a mighty crack and rush of air as it tips and a muffled boom as it lands on a bed of pine needles and moisture softened earth. Now I want to run—what I do best when I feel cornered or judged—but thoughts of Isabella cause me to hesitate.

"Wait." Alice sits up slowly with a hand to her forehead. "I'm sorry, Edward. This isn't why I wanted to come out here, and . . . I was out of line. Why didn't you ever say what feeding on animals does to you?"

"Why should I have to explain myself?" I counter, my voice dripping with disgust. I face away from her and stare into the silent woods—all the animals fled the area while we dined on their kin.

"This isn't going the way I hoped it would. Aside from feeding, I wanted to discuss something with you privately."

"Oh?" I still refuse to look at her.

"Well, Isabella should be ready to be turned in a few days . . . and I thought you might want to have the ceremony first."

"Ceremony?"

"You did ask her to marry you."

That I did, and Isabella was concerned because she was already "legally" married to that asshole Hunter. A smile spreads across my face, the tension leaching from my body. "Yes."

"No time like the present. I found a beautiful clearing out past those trees."

"I have no ring to put on her finger. We have no wedding clothes." Not that those things matter. All we really need is the two of us and our intention.

"Look who you're talking to, Edward! It's all arranged." She pulls a familiar blue velvet box from her pocket—my mother's ring—and places it in my hand. "I brought a tux for you, and a beautiful dress for Isabella."

I'm not even sure why I kept my mother's ring all these years. I certainly never expected to place it on a woman's finger as I vowed to love and protect her for all of eternity. It's the only thing I have left of my human mother; even my memories have faded to mere shadows.

"Thank you, Ali." I close my fist around the plushness of the box and offer my sister a genuine smile. "I'm a bit rusty when it comes to your magic."

When we get back to the cabin, Isabella is sitting on the couch playing Gin with Rosalie. I'm glad they've grown close, more for Rose's sake than Isabella's. My sister can be a sour, bitter creature. It's fortunate vampires don't get wrinkles because Rose would surely have deep furrows around her mouth from that pinched "sucking lemons" look she does so well.

I head upstairs and lounge on the bed, listening to them continue their card game. The open velvet box rests on my stomach. My mother's ring is nestled within, gleaming brilliantly, a symbol of my eternal love for Isabella.

Eventually, she seeks me out, wandering into the room with a curious expression on her beautiful face. I slide the box under the pillow and prop my head in my hand.

"Hey." Her lips curve into a smile as she climbs onto the bed and straddles me.

"Hey."

Warm fingers slip beneath my T-shirt, moving with slow deliberateness over my rib cage. She explores each ridge as if it's a new and interesting discovery. When she finishes, she leans down until our stomachs touch and presses kisses along the neckline of my shirt. My hands smooth over her curves until I have her perfect ass cradled in my palms.

Isabella's soft lips travel up the side of my neck and she whispers, "My blood results are closer. Rose thinks another few days . . ."

"That's wonderful news." My hands knead her soft cheeks before traveling up her back to slide into her silken hair, urging her head up until she's looking me in the eye. "You won't have to worry about being sick anymore."

"I'll be yours forever." Isabella caresses my face, a question forming in the liquid sable of her eyes. "Will you . . . can you be the one?"

"Yes. If it's what you want, I'd be honored."

"Good! It's settled then."

"There is something else."

"Okay."

I roll us over and sit her on the edge of the bed with me kneeling on the floor. I reach under the pillow for the ring. "Isabella Marie Swan, would you do me the honor of marrying me tomorrow?" The open box rests in the palm of my outstretched hand.

Isabella gasps, staring at my mother's ring; the sparkle of it reflects at me from her eyes. "Oh, Edward! It's beautiful."

I take her hand in mine and slip it on her finger. It fits perfectly as if it was made for her. "This was my human mother's ring. It's all I have left of her. I'm not sure why I kept it all these years—I never really believed I'd find you."

"Wait . . . did you say tomorrow?"

I smile. "I did."

Isabella giggles. "I don't have a dress or shoes or a bouquet."

"Yes, you do." I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. "Ali's thought of everything, and this is a beautiful place for a wedding. My only regret is that Hannah can't be our flower girl. So, will you . . . be my wife?"

"Yes, of course!" she squeals, launching herself off the bed and into my arms. I allow her to push me onto my back where she proceeds to cover my face with kisses.

"If I didn't know better—" the flow of my words is interrupted for a moment by her lips "—I'd think you were excited."

**~*RK*~**

A gentle breeze ruffles the blades of grass. It makes its way over the ground, ripples over the expensive fabric of my black tux, and caresses my face like a lover. I've been standing here forever with Rosalie, waiting for Alice to escort my bride into the clearing—well, really only two hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty-four seconds, but who's counting? I was banned from the cabin hours ago, so Alice could get Isabella ready—bathing, hair, makeup, dressing . . .

"Relax, Edward. They'll be here any moment." Rose smirks as I wedge a finger under my bow tie. "Stop fidgeting!"

I ignore her.

Mid-afternoon sun casts dappled patterns over the runners Alice laid out for Isabella to walk on since the ground is still saturated and muddy in many spots. I continue to pace back and forth in my shiny black shoes, running a hand through my hair every so often.

Finally, I hear Alice and Isabella heading our way through the trees. Isabella is giggling uncontrollably, a refreshingly wonderful sound, but not necessarily what a groom expects to hear when his bride is approaching the altar.

The two of them burst from between two pine trees, moving far faster than humanly possible. Isabella is cradled in Alice's arms, hugging my sister about the neck and laughing. It's an absurd image, especially since they're both dressed for a wedding.

The laughter abruptly converts into a strangled sound as Isabella's eyes meet mine. "Oh, no! Alice, put me down! Dear God, how embarrassing." She holds her bouquet of flowers up in front of her beautiful face but not before a telltale blush begins to stain her cheeks. She gasps and peeks over the top of the blooms, her brown eyes bright. "Edward . . . you look ravishing."

I smile behind my hand. "Ravishing, huh?" She's absurd and utterly adorable—and have I mentioned, _all mine_?

Alice sets her down on the end of the runner, and I forget all about their strange laughter-filled trip through the woods. Isabella stands there blushing while I rake my eyes over her, and time seems to stop. The dress fits every curve like a second skin, sweeping down to a gentle flare at her ankles. A small slit up the front shows off her shapely legs and a pair of strappy high heels. The color of her dress can only be described as pink champagne, and swaths of clear beading span the bodice, thinning to delicate swirls down the skirt and edge along the slit and hem. Mahogany waves of hair cascade over her shoulders, held back by a braid on each side adorned by fresh wildflowers. Her makeup is subtle but expertly applied, highlighting her natural beauty.

Isabella's heart beats faster, her breaths harsh. "Say something."

Her voice startles me, and I realize I've been drinking her in and enjoying the view without offering any feedback. "You're breathtaking. A goddess." I hold my hand out, inviting her to join me.

Alice offers her arm, and the two of them move toward me way too slowly for my taste. With five feet to spare, I meet them and take Isabella's hand in mine and lead her the rest of the way to where Rose stands waiting. We face each other.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to unite these mates for eternity," Rose begins. "Do you, Edward Masen, take Isabella Marie Swan to be your mate and wife? Will you love and cherish her until the stars fall from the sky, putting her before all others?"

"I will."

"Do you, Isabella Marie Swan, take Edward Masen to be your mate and husband? Will you love and cherish him until the stars fall from the sky, putting him before all others?"

"I will." Isabella smiles up at me with love shining in her eyes.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to one another?" Rose asks.

"Yes." I squeeze her hands, rubbing my thumb over the ring that now encircles her finger. "Isabella, before finding you, my life was an empty husk. I was apathetic and ornery—some might argue that I still am—and had no real direction. Your zest for life, remarkable faith in the direst of circumstances, and love for your child have given me a sense of hope I haven't experienced since becoming what I am. It's the ultimate in selfishness, but I can't wait to have you by my side for all of eternity. I vow to love, honor, and protect you until I exist no more." I lift her left hand and place a kiss on the back of it. The scent of her blush is enticing, the shade of pink that rises to her skin delectable, and I can't resist trailing an index finger over the apple of one cheek.

"Edward, I felt drawn to you from the moment we met, though I didn't understand why at first. The thought of you dying sent pain slicing through my heart, and I had no choice but to save you. You sacrificed everything for me, put yourself in harm's way to try to protect me and Hannah. No matter how many centuries we might be together, I will never forget who you are." She reaches out to lay a hand over my heart, and a tear slides down her cheek. "You are my knight in shining armor, my one true love, and I vow to love, honor, and protect you until I exist no more."

I use the pad of my thumb to wipe away the tear. Love for her overwhelms me, every cell filled to bursting.

"I just wish Hannah could have been here," she whispers.

Alice dances forward with her cell phone. "She's here in spirit. I was going to wait until later to show you this, but . . ."

She plays a video that was recorded in Sue's backyard.

The camera focuses in on Hannah, and Sue whispers, "Go ahead, honey."

Hannah skips close to the screen with a huge smile on her face. "I love you, mama and Edwood. Happy wedding day!"

The video freezes on Hannah's smiling face.

Isabella runs a finger over the screen tenderly. "Oh, my baby. Mommy will always make sure you're taken care of, no matter what."

"So will I," I promise. "I'll always be there for both of you."

"I know." Isabella smiles up at me before turning to Alice. "That was the best wedding present ever. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Alice steps back so we can continue.

"Rose?" I prompt impatiently.

Rosalie swallows around the lump in her throat. "By the power of your love, you are now husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

In one swift movement, I scoop Isabella into my arms, toss the bouquet at Alice, and take off through the woods. Isabella barely has time for a gasp of surprise before my lips are on hers. I'm a vampire; I can run through the woods at breakneck speed while kissing my bride. My sisters will be disappointed at our impromptu departure, but they'll have to get over it. I want the first kiss all to myself.

We reach another clearing closer to the cabin, and I press Isabella back against a blanket I laid out on the grass earlier, knowing she'd freak out about her dress otherwise. There's an ice bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne resting in the grass beside it. _Alice._

My lips find Isabella's ripe and ready. She doesn't stop me to ask why we're in the middle of a field on a blanket in our wedding clothes or why I whisked her away from my sisters so abruptly. She tangles her fingers in my hair and kisses me back with abandon, pressing her body closer to mine.

"Isabella Masen," I say with pride and smile down at her.

"I love the way that sounds. It's an honor to take your name." Her warm fingers caress my face lovingly.

"Some champagne, Mrs. Masen?" I query, helping her sit up.

I pop the cork and pour us both a flute. Isabella seems surprised, but I simply smile—I can endure a little bubbly for her.

"To an eternity of happiness and love." Our glasses clink together, and we both laugh as our arms entwine, and we drink from the delicate glasses. The fizzing alcohol tickles my nose and throat as it goes down.

I only drink a few sips, but Isabella drinks two glasses in quick succession. The effect is immediate—a radiant flush of her skin, loosening of her joints, and soft giggles as she slides her hands under my tux jacket and fumbles at the buttons on my shirt.

"Isabella . . ."

"It's our wedding night—er, afternoon." She giggles again.

"You're tipsy."

"No, no. I'm happy and relaxed. Big difference, husband." She leans in and kisses my Adam's apple as her fingers work my bow tie loose. Her lips find their way to the lobe of my ear. "Don't you want me?" she whispers, sucking it between them.

Primal urges ignite within me, and I'm tempted to strip her down and take her right here.

"Yes, of _course _I want you." Delicate fingers continue to work the buttons on my shirt as her tongue works my earlobe. "Guess I had the image of undressing you in the bedroom in mind."

"Oh, we'll do it there, too."

She pushes me back on the blanket and kneels beside me. Her warm mouth distracts me, and before long, my shirt is open and so are my trousers. The warmth of her fingers caresses my cock, and I groan. A cool breeze whips up, and I know I should stop this and bring her back to our bed.

"Isabella . . ."

"Don't, Edward." Her voice is stern, but her fingers continue to fondle me lovingly.

"It's chilly out here."

"I like it, and don't tell me I'll catch cold—because in a few days' time, that won't matter."

"I have no protection." _That_ does matter. The last thing we need is for her to get pregnant again; it could muck up the delicate balance of her blood in unpredictable ways.

Isabella lifts her head and gazes down at me. "You know, if I wasn't aware of what a horn-dog you are, I'd think you were trying to avoid making it with me, Mr. Masen." A sly smile curls her lips in an enticing way, and she hikes her dress up to her thighs, tossing a leg over my hips to straddle me. "If that's all the objections you've got . . . let the festivities commence." Lifting one leg out slightly, she pulls a foil packet from under the white lacy garter that holds it in place. Right above a pair of . . . thigh highs. _That's so hot._

"Oh, God."

She rips the packet open with her teeth and looks down at me coyly. "I rather think I'll be hearing 'Oh, Isabella' pretty soon." The scent of orange blossoms surrounds us as she sheathes me with the condom.

I slide my hands up her creamy thighs and underneath her wedding dress, encountering nothing but warm, silken skin. "No panties."

"No bra. Nothing to slow us down—just all your talking."

Isabella takes all of me inside her, tilting her joy-filled face up to the sky. She unfastens the clip that holds her hair together behind her head, and the braids fall forward to frame her face. A few wildflower petals rain down between us, but most of them remain tucked in the weave of the braids.

The snugness of her dress won't allow my roaming hands to reach past her hips, so I slip them from under her skirt and tug the off-the-shoulder neckline down until I can free her breasts, the dress pressing them together and pushing them forward. Isabella lets loose a soft "Oh . . ." as the cool air teases across them, awakening the rosy buds.

She spreads my shirt open and leans down to place a kiss on my bare chest. Soft waves of mahogany spill over my sensitive skin, and I rock my hips. I cup her face in my hands, guiding her mouth to mine. Her lips are soft, searing heat pressing to my own, and the hardened points of her nipples draw hot tingling patterns over my skin. Her hands seek purchase on my shoulders as she uses our joining to bring herself to the heights of pleasure, drawing me along for the ride.

Between kisses, I whisper, "Beautiful, bewitching . . . it's as if you cast a spell over me."

"No stronger than the one you cast over me."

We come together again, her lips parting on a sweet moan. My tongue entangles with the branding heat of hers, and I'm lost. The heat of her incinerates me at so many levels as we give and take until our passion collides and shatters, raining down around us in shards of ice and sparks of fire.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: ****In case I haven't said it often enough, each and every one of you is a gift to me. I appreciate your patience and willingness to keep reading even though I'm a sloo-oh-oh-oow updater. My readers rock the hardest! Mwah!**

**I originally planned to have other events happen in this chapter, but my characters had plans of their own. Hope you enjoyed the interlude. :-) Next chapter we'll be back to the drama.**

**The winner of Emmett's Party Pack Contest was 2muchtrouble. Wonder what Emmett will do with that party pack once these two no longer have need of it. Any suggestions? Water balloon fight anyone?**

**The next chapter is almost finished, and then I'll be cranking out the next installment of ****_Speak Now_****. I've been asked by several readers about ****_Broken Windows_****. My intention is to work on that after ****_Speak Now._**

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	32. Chapter 32 Butterfly

**A/N: Hey, rockin' readers! Hope the new year is treating you well. Thanks to everyone to reads, recs, and lurks this story.**

**Edward growls to my prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their awesome feedback. Special thanks and a pair of loose sweatpants to Aleea this chapter. *snort***

**As always, I'm thankful for my awesome betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), for wielding their sparkly reds. Thanks to Kathie for her additional chapter suggestions. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 32<strong>

**~Butterfly~**

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><p><strong>To find the way, close your eyes, <strong>

**listen closely, and attend with your heart.**

**~ Anonymous**

One end of the flannel blanket is wrapped over Isabella, tucking her against me. She insisted on leaving the top of her dress down, and the weight of one perfect rounded globe warms my palm. Her questing fingers dance lightly over my bare chest, and she smiles up at me coquettishly.

The sun is beginning to dip below the trees casting ever-lengthening shadows, and soon the temperature will begin to drop. Pennsylvania nights can be quite chilly even in the summers, but springtime often brings light frosts.

"We really must go back soon, Mrs. Masen." I kiss her lips softly. "As much as I'd like to remain here and go for round two . . ."

Isabella taps my nose with her index finger. "Don't fret—round two and three will commence in our bedroom."

"Three? Ambitious, aren't you?"

"These are my last days as a human, Edward. I want to drink my fill."

"There will be plenty of filling to be done once you're turned, sweet one. You won't be able to keep your hands off me." I roll us until I'm hovering over her, hands clasped together over her head.

Isabella licks her lips and presses her chest upward until her nipples drag across my skin. "What makes you think I can keep my hands off you now?"

A low growl reverberates between us, and I kiss her deeply before releasing her hands and tugging the top of her dress up. I roll off her and sit up, buttoning my shirt with vampire speed. "You, my little minx, are going to drive me mad. If you don't have another condom hidden amongst your wedding garb, then I suggest you behave."

She pushes up from the blanket and presses her lips together in an attempt to hold back a laugh. Her milky skin has a beautiful glow that shines from within, and I'm happy to see her looking so healthy—especially on our wedding day.

When we arrive back at the cabin, there's no sign of my sisters. Twilight has just fallen, painting the world with a bluish glow. A fire crackles in the hearth, and the table is set for dinner. I'm horrified to realize Isabella hasn't eaten for hours.

"Are you hungry?"

"Famished. A sexy vampire wore me out . . . and I'm hoping he has plans to finish me off later on."

I pull her back against me with a smile and push her hair aside to nuzzle her neck. "He definitely has plans for you."

Isabella sits at the table, and I serve her a healthy portion of the lasagna Alice left warming in the oven. She oohs and aahs over it, prattling on about how it tastes so much like the one her mom used to make. There's crusty bread and a salad as well. She feasts on dinner, even agreeing to a second portion of the heavy pasta.

"That was delicious." Isabella dabs at her mouth with a napkin.

"Would you like to watch a movie?"

"I'd love to."

We lounge on the couch in our wedding clothes and watch _Love Story _on VHS. Lou Diamonte doesn't have any modern movies in the cabin. Isabella cries softly, and I wonder if the subject matter has hit too close to home. I hug her closer. "Do you want to watch something else?"

She looks up at me, her tears falling freely. "Oh, you don't like it?"

"It's fine . . . but you're crying, and I thought her illness might upset you."

"I'm crying because they love each other so much, and it's not fair. She doesn't have you to save her."

"I promise you'll always have me." I wipe her tears away.

After the movie, I scoop her up in my arms and carry her to the bedroom. I light the candles my sisters left around the room then turn to my wife. The golden flicker of candlelight bathes her skin with a tantalizing glow and glints off the beading on her dress.

"I think it's time we get out of these clothes, don't you?"

Isabella turns her back to me. "Can you get my zipper?"

I ease the zipper down, exposing the expanse of her milky back to me. Remembering she has no underthings on kindles the fire inside me. The dress slips from her shoulders, framing sharp scapulas, the ridges of her spine, and the soft flare of her waist giving way to her hips. As the dress falls to the floor, the dip of her lower back and the soft swell of her ass are revealed. She steps out of the material pooled around her feet and glances at me over one shoulder. My gaze glides down her shapely legs and back up slowly until our eyes meet.

"Beautiful."

"You're overdressed." She winks at me and sashays over to the bed.

Ten seconds later, I'm naked. Isabella stretches out on her stomach over cream satin sheets sprinkled with pink rose petals.

"I love the way this feels against my skin."

Venom pools in my mouth at the sight of her, and I kneel beside her delectable body and run my fingers up the backs of her legs, light as a feather. She giggles until I reach the cleft of her ass, then she draws in a sharp breath and stiffens as I replace my fingers with my lips and kiss my way over the soft mounds. There are no objections, so I continue kissing my way across the dip of her lower back and start making my way up her spine. My lips and tongue move slowly over each vertebra, while my fingers brush lightly up her sides. Isabella's panting breaths and sweet whimpering sounds rouse my passion further, and I blanket her body with mine, sliding my hands up her arms until our fingers entwine.

"I want to take you like this," I whisper against her hair. Isabella's moan of assent encourages me to use my knee to nudge her legs apart. There is no resistance. "Lift your hips." Letting one of her hands go, I grab an extra pillow and slide it under her pelvis. After rolling on a condom, I position myself behind her and shift my hips forward until her intense heat surrounds me.

"Mm-mm . . . you feel so good like this. So deep." Isabella's face rests on the pillow, one pinked cheek visible. Thick waves of her hair spill over one arm, a dark contrast against the sheets and her rose-cream skin.

I push her hair aside, licking slowly up the sweetly sensitive skin on the back of her neck, and she writhes beneath me. A primal part of me revels in the fact that she's under me, trapped beneath my body with my lips at her neck. We fall into our own rhythm, fingers entwined above her head. Our mate connection awakens within me once again as ecstasy fills my chest with light and life. Her heartbeat becomes a part of me, and we move as one being, filling each other up, giving and taking and sharing until we both free-fall together.

Afterward, we face each other. The flickering candlelight shines in her eyes and licks at her luminous skin. I trace my fingers over the delicate curve of her shoulder and down her arm. Even though we're no longer physically joined, the echo of her heart still beats in my chest.

"Your heart is still beating inside me."

"How? What does that mean?" Her warm fingers drift from my jaw to press lightly over my chest, seeking this phantom heartbeat.

"I don't know. It's never happened before." I lean in and kiss her. "You won't feel anything because it's not real."

"If you feel it, then it's real."

A smile touches my lips. "You have a unique way of looking at things. It's one of the things I love most about you." I grab her hand and place a kiss in her palm. My eyes never leave hers. I can't bear to look away; this feeling of a heartbeat is addictive, and I'm afraid it will slip away too soon.

"I love you so much, Edward." Her eyes shine with it.

"I love you, too, sweet one. You look tired. Get some sleep now." I tuck a blanket around us and hold her as she drifts off. For the rest of the night, I relive our wedding day—and night—in delicious detail. It may only be a phantom, but the beating continues in my chest, and her warmth spreads through me.

Addictive.

**~*RK*~**

As the first glow of the morning sun peeks above the horizon, I hear it.

_When Edward comes down, I need to tell him about this. Why is everything always so damn complicated?_

At first I'm not sure if it's in my head, but then I see what she sees—the rumpled couch, the dishes in the sink, the folded up blanket in the corner.

Boots stomp up the porch stairs and the door opens. _This area sucks. There's nothing to do around here, and there isn't much variety on the menu. I hate deer blood._

"Hey, Alice." Rose spies her leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey."

"Why so broody?"

"Stuff." Alice shrugs. "It'll keep."

On a good day, the rush of thoughts through Alice's head is overwhelming, but with my mind reading just coming back online for whatever reason, it reminds me of when I first woke to this life. The cacophony of the thoughts around me created a mash-up of words that was nearly impossible to untangle. Right now, Alice's meanderings create that kind of overload in my mind all on their own.

"Shit, Ali—you have to slow your thoughts down," I mutter.

The mind-numbing rumble stops short. "You can hear me?"

"Your thoughts are akin to a hundred tuning forks struck at once—in a tunnel."

"So your gift is sort of back then?"

"Just a sec."

Isabella is still deeply asleep, so I carefully extricate myself from her warmth and pull some clothes on. I kiss her forehead before heading downstairs where I join my sisters on the front porch. Alice is perched on the railing, her leg swinging rhythmically, and Rose paces back and forth in front of the porch steps.

"What's going on?"I look between them.

"Aro knows everything." Alice's lips purse, her nose scrunching as if she smells something bad. "He's trying to contact Demetri right now to track us."

"What about Carlisle?"

"Okay for now. Aro wants us all to stand before him and 'explain ourselves' to His Majesty." Alice employs air quotes and rolls her eyes.

My newfound warmth slips away as a chill runs through me. "You mean he wants to force us to become part of his despicable army. We'll stand trial, and he'll be lenient _if_ we agree to serve. Fuck that!"I snarl.

Rosalie stops pacing and stares at me but says nothing, her mouth in a tight line.

Alice's eyes glaze over, and I'm sucked into her vision. It's much what I expect—Aro will agree to let our coven live if he can have Alice and me. He also wants the serum, the real cure—and Isabella and Hannah.

"No!" I slam my fist into one of the posts, pulverizing it, and the roof of the porch creaks, sagging slightly. That sick fuck will never touch my girls.

"Edward, he hasn't reached Demetri yet. Don't forget Demetri's already there in Italy with Jasper. He can delay 'finding' us until Isabella has been changed. She won't go there vulnerable."

I turn and glare at my sister. "She won't go there at all!"

"Give me some time, Edward. I need to run some different scenarios and see how we should best handle this. You know we can't ignore Aro—he'll just come after us."

"True. The coward is never without protection, is he?"

Rosalie growls in frustration. "I need to get out of here for a while." She takes off into the woods. I understand the sentiment, but the noose is closing in around us and our options are few.

We attempt to keep things as normal as possible for Isabella. I know she senses something by the thoughtful way she glances at each of us while spooning up her oatmeal. A soft "Yes!" from Rose distracts everyone.

"What is it?" I ask.

"It's time." Rose joins us in the kitchen, a triumphant gleam in her eye. "Isabella's blood levels are perfect, and not a moment too soon."

The spoon stops halfway to Isabella's mouth and hangs in the air, a glob of oatmeal plopping back into the bowl. She doesn't seem to notice as her eyes rake over each of us in turn, saving me for last. "What's going on? The three of you have been acting strangely this morning."

_Sorry, Edward! I wasn't thinking._ Rose cringes.

_Just tell her the truth. She has a right to know. _Alice looks at me pointedly.

To Rose, I say, "It's all right," and to Alice, "I will."

The spoon clatters against the bowl after slipping from Isabella's fingers. "Can you . . . hear them? Has your gift returned?"

"Yes, sort of."

"Wow. I fall asleep for a few hours and the entire landscape changes."

"Can I speak with my wife alone, please?"

Rosalie and Alice leave hastily; neither of them wants to be around for this. I kneel next to Isabella's chair and take her hand.

"Edward, what in the world is going on?"

"This morning I heard Alice's thoughts. It very much reminds me of the way things were when Carlisle first turned me—overwhelming, invasive, and out of control. I can't imagine being in a public place right now."

"Will it improve?"

"Over time, probably. It's not as if there are any statistics to go by."I smile crookedly.

"Rose said my blood is ready for the change." Isabella looks down at me, but she's not smiling. Trepidation seeps from her pores; I can almost taste it on the air.

"Yes."

"But there's more. What happened while I was asleep?"

I close my eyes. She has every right to know. Perhaps it's better now than after the change. Newborn vampires tend to have strong emotional reactions, and the last thing we need is for Isabella to be out of control—that's when mistakes happen. I take one of her hands in mine and caress her face with my other. "Alice is finally starting to see visions of Carlisle and Aro."

"And?"

"He knows we faked the cure. He knows about you . . . and Hannah. He wants us to stand trial before him in Italy. For decades he's been looking for a reason to collect Alice and me because of our gifts. If we stay with him, he'll agree not to eradicate our entire coven, generous fuck that he is."

Isabella's eyes harden until her irises look like chips of flint. The skin of her cheeks, throat, and chest erupts in a patchy, mottled red. "Is that so?" Her voice is pure ice. "Well, Aro can't have you—or any of us! I don't give a shit _who_ he thinks he is."

No fear. Just justifiable anger and the strength of steel. "You're not frightened."

"We didn't come through all that we have to let some megalomaniac vampire king dismantle it. There's a way around this—we just have to figure out what that is."

"You amaze me at every turn." I cup her face and lean up for a kiss. "We _will_ figure a way around this. Aro will never lay a hand on you or Hannah."

"Edward." Isabella's fingers tighten in the hair at the nape of my neck. "He'll never have you or Alice, either. Nobody is going to fuck with those that I love ever again."

"Aro's trying to reach Demetri so he can track us. Demetri is delaying things a bit so we have time to change you. We need to present a show of strength, and with you already a vampire, it will be one less bargaining chip for Aro. Alice will keep watching the visions to see what changes in the meantime."

"Is James there with him?" she asks softly.

"Yes."

She nods sharply, the sudden fire in her eyes frightening me a little, but nothing else is said about James or what it could mean that he's aligned himself with the Volturi.

Two hours later, after Alice has overseen bathing, shaving, a hair trim, and eyebrow shaping, Isabella is deemed ready to be changed.

The sun is still high in the sky as we enter the bedroom. With the rays concentrated on the other side of the cabin, our room dances with shadows. Isabella perches on the side of the bed in a tank top and shorts, her mahogany waves flowing free over her shoulders and down her back. Her posture is rigid, arms locked at her sides, palms pressed to the bed.

I kneel in front of her with my hands resting on her thighs. "Do you have any questions for me?"

Isabella's forehead scrunches in concentration, her body retaining its rigidness. "We _will_ beat them, right?"

"Look at me." I wait for her beautiful brown eyes to meet mine. "We're not going in there unless we have a plan. If Alice doesn't see a way . . . then you aren't going to Italy. Whatever I have to do, whatever the cost, my only concern is to make sure you and Hannah remain safe."

The sharp scent of fear curls up my nose, and Isabella clutches at my shoulders. "What about you?"

"I'll do what's necessary. My intention is for all of us to come out of this unscathed, but I'm planning for every contingency."

Isabella opens her mouth to protest and ends up staring at me silently. She knows I can do no less for my mate and the child that's taken over my heart.

"I'd like to make a video to send to Hannah."

"Okay." I pull out my cell and click on the camera function. "Try to relax. You look wooden, and your face is so tense. The last thing you want is to scare Hannah."

She calms herself, and when she seems ready I give her a thumbs up and hit record.

"Hey, Hannah Banana! Thanks for that lovely wedding video. It was great to see your darling face on my special day. Edwood loved it, too." Isabella winks at me. "Listen, baby, the treatment Grandpa Carl came up with worked. I'm about to be cured from the leukemia! I'll be a little different after. I'll still be me, no matter what, but . . . more like Edwood and the rest of his family. I want you to know how much mommy loves you, sweet girl. Be good for Grandma Sue, and we'll be back as soon as we can! Mwah!" Isabella blows kisses at the phone.

She manages to hold it together until the phone is put away before a few tears run down her face.

"It's going to be all right, you know. Hannah is a remarkable child, and she'll love you just as much even if you're a little different."

"You really think so?"

"I do. Do you need some time?"

She wipes the tears away and smiles. "No. We've waited long enough for this."

I cup her face between my hands and kiss her reverently. Her soft warmth draws me in, and I rise up, pushing her back to the bed where we kiss and touch and explore. My fingers slip under the thin cotton tank, whispering over heated bare skin. Isabella's leg wraps around my hip, and she thrusts up against my growing hardness.

"Edward . . . I have one last request."

"Anything." I brush the hair out of her face and look into her eyes, searching them for any sign of distress. I find only warmth and confidence.

"I want you to make love to me."

"As if you have to ask . . ." I smile down at her.

"That's not all . . . I want you to start the change when I come. I want my last human memory to be of you . . . buried inside me." Now that the words are out, a blush rises to her creamy skin.

I can't contain a possessive growl, but I manage to restrain myself from ripping the clothes off her body and slamming into her. This is the last time I will experience her as human, warm, fragile, delicate. In three days, she'll be able to break me in half.

"I'd love nothing more."

I undress her slowly, peeling away her tank top, shorts, and panties before removing my own clothing. My hands slide up the satiny skin of her legs, over the swell of her hips, the curve of her waist, to cradle the soft globes of her breasts. I lower my mouth to hers, our lips coming together in gentle kisses that lead to tasting with my tongue, exploring her sweet hot mouth. There's no urgency to this, just a slow, burning exploration of one another, a memorization of every dip, curve, and secret spot.

When I'm finally ready to enter her, I'm welcomed inside, cradled within her slick heat. I push in deep, and Isabella tilts her head back with a sweet sigh, her fingers gripping my shoulders.

"Yes, Edward . . ."

I make love to her slowly, pulling and pushing and circling my hips. She tries to increase the pace, but I still her pulsing hips. "Shh . . . no rush, sweet one. Let it build."

I watch her cues and try to keep pace so we can come together. The orgasm sneaks up on Isabella, and her eyes pop open with a little "Oh!" that quickly dissolves into loss of control as she squirms and whimpers and grabs at me. There was nothing to worry over; the sounds she makes and the feel of her coming around me triggers my own climax. Once the most intense ecstasy flames inside me, I push her hair out of the way and sink my teeth into her neck.

Sweet velvet wine blooms on my tongue and slides down my throat. I take a few strong pulls, knowing it will increase the intensity of her orgasm, before removing my teeth from her neck and swiping my tongue across the wound.

"God, Edward . . . so good."

And I can't lie—having been deprived of human blood the past few months makes it taste all the sweeter, bringing out the complexities in the flavor of pure, healthy blood. No sickness remains; tasting her essence is the final test. Nothing stands in the way of her becoming immortal now but three days of agony.

"I love you, Isabella," I whisper, before bending to the other side of her neck. I drink again, thankful the venom hasn't started burning yet.

"Love you, too, so much." She's drunk on the sensation of me drinking, her words a bit slurred.

I move on to each wrist before pulling out of her and concentrating on her torso. I bite and inject venom at the top of each breast, her inner thighs, and behind her knees.

Five minutes later, all hell breaks loose as she screams and writhes on the bed in agony. What was sensual a few minutes ago has become a personal hell.

"I'm on fire! Oh, God, I'm burning!" Isabella holds her hands up in front of her face then sits up and ogles her own body in disbelief. "Where are the flames?"

I pull her into my arms and wind my body around hers, praying that I can offer a modicum of comfort. I kiss the top of her head. "I'm sorry, baby. There are no flames—it just feels that way. If there were any possible way, I would take on the pain for you."

"I know you . . . AAAAHH . . . would if you could." She grits her teeth. "Edward, it hurts!"

Isabella is amazing at adaptation. Although I know the burning doesn't ease, over the next several hours she goes from screaming and begging me to do something to graceful acceptance. She sweats, shivers, and claws at me, beseeching me to keep talking to her and telling her what our lives will be like once she's whole and the nightmare with the Volturi is over.

In the following days, I witness her transforming into a creature more beautiful than she already was. The skin over her ribs and sharp hip bones plumps, rounding out her curves. Her hair thickens and lengthens, the already rich mahogany tones deepening into a gentle fall of auburn and golden highlights. Her pale skin marbleizes, erasing all imperfections and human scars. The physical hold she has on me grows ever stronger until it's almost painful having her wrapped around me—and that's when I know the transformation is nearly at an end.

When the burn focuses in her chest, surrounding her galloping heart, the screams start afresh. Isabella gasps for air she no longer really needs, her eyes bulging. Her iron hold on me no longer allows me to offer comfort.

"Ali, Rose," I call to my sisters.

Isabella is naked, having long since torn through several outfits. I've managed to keep a pair of jeans on but gave up on shirts after the first two were clawed off.

Alice and Rose enter the room at a run. It takes them both to tear her arms from around me. Once I'm free, Rose sits on her legs, Alice takes one arm, and I hold the other.

"Isabella, it's almost over."

"No. No! Something's wrong!" She continues to struggle and gasp for air, her eyes imploring me helplessly as the wet little pump in her chest strains harder against the venom.

"Look at me, sweet one. Right here in my eyes."

Crazed, red irises search out my face. "Edward . . ."

"The heart is the last part to be transformed. You're almost there. I promise there's nothing wrong."

"I can't breathe right."

"You don't_need_ to breathe anymore. Just . . . let go. Holding on to human needs and instincts will make it harder on you." I caress her face. "Focus on my voice."

_Thumpthump-thumpthump-thumpthump_

"You're almost out the other side. There won't be any more sickness or death, no worry about leukemia or medication. You'll be stronger than me your first year—stronger than all of us."

_Thumpthump-thumpthump-thumpthump_

"I'll love and treasure you for all of eternity. You alone have made this life worth living. Keep looking into my eyes. You can _do_ this."

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthu mp . . . _

_Thump . . . thump . . . _

_Thump . . ._

Silence.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Talk to me, peeps! What are you thinking now? Pack your bags and get ready to visit the megalomaniac vampire king!**

**Working on the next chapter of **_**Speak Now**_**.**

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	33. Chapter 33 The Pull of Destiny

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! As always, thank you for your patience, emails, and PMs. My apologies that this chapter took so long.**

**Love to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their invaluable input.**

**Huge thanks to my lovely betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), for wielding the sparkly reds—especially when I make stoopid mistakes. ;-) Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 33<strong>

**~The Pull of Destiny~**

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><p><em><strong>I do not allow myself vain regrets or foreboding.<strong>_

**~ Mary Chestnut**

Isabella's eyes slip closed.

Silence.

"Isabella?"

The silence stretches. It seems to go on for an eternity though only seconds pass.

"Open your eyes, sweet one."

Isabella is completely still as only a vampire can be. No heartbeat, no heaving of her bosom as she draws breath, or even the twitch of an eyelid. She could be made of stone, and fear races through me for a moment. Has she come through the process as expected? Could some remnant of her blood anomaly have carried over, hidden in a crevice deep in the recesses of a cell, just waiting to reach out at her most vulnerable of moments?

I stroke my hand down her arm. Her skin is smooth as silk, lacking any imperfections.

"Alice?"

My sister pushes the bedroom door open and pops her dark head in. "She's fine."

"You can see her?"

"Clear as a bell. She's fine."

I relax slightly as I trail my fingertips over the top of Isabella's hand. Grabbing the edge of the sheet, I tug it up until it covers her nakedness. As it billows down around her and whispers against her skin, Isabella gasps and her lids fly open.

A millisecond later I'm on my back with her knees squeezing my hips borderline painfully and her hands pinning mine above my head. Wild claret eyes roam over my face, and a soft growl vibrates in her throat.

"It's all right, Isabella. You're safe."

Alice giggles and slips from the room, leaving me to wonder what I've missed.

Isabella ignores my words as if I haven't spoken. Transferring my captured wrists to the cage of her left hand, she smoothes her right palm over my face and down the side of my neck. Her eyes track her questing fingers, and then she bends her head lower and trails the tip of her nose along the same path. Rolling purrs buzz along my skin, and every so often she sucks air in through her mouth or her soft, venom-coated tongue flicks out to taste me.

"Mm-mm . . ."

Sharpened nails drag slowly over my nipples, and I draw in a breath and hold it, trying to think of something—anything-other than the inappropriate urge to claim her here and now.

Isabella glances into my eyes at my reaction, and then she does it again.

"Isabella, please . . ." I force out through gritted teeth.

"Yours are sensitive, too—just like mine." Her hand leaves my chest and moves to her own. She tweaks a nipple between her fingers and moans, pressing her bareness down over my denim-covered crotch. "Is it always this way, then?"

"Dear God, yes." The sight of her touching herself brings on a raging hard-on, and I gasp for air I don't physiologically need but suddenly can't seem to do without.

My hands are suddenly free as she grasps my face between her palms and looks into my eyes.

"Edward, you're more beautiful than I ever knew. I've never really _seen_ you. And, oh, you smell like summer rain and warm sunsets. I want to kiss you. May I? Please?"

I laugh, surprised and delighted by her quirkiness just as much as a curious newborn as when she was a frail human. "You trap me to the bed, restrain my hands, and play with my nipples . . . then you ask permission to kiss me?"

Isabella looks contrite, and I daresay she would be blushing if she still could.

"I'm sorry about that. It was . . . it was . . ."

"Instinct?"

"Yes! That." Relief transforms her features. "I was lying there trying to absorb all the stimuli, and then the sheet rubbed against my nipples! And your scent, Edward. Smelling you for the first time—truly smelling you,_tasting_ you on the air—I just lost all control."

"Yes, it can work like that for us." I smirk at her.

"We can move so fast, do so much, and . . . I still want to kiss you."

"Gently, Isabella. You still need to acclimate to your new strength."

"Of course," she whispers, sliding her fingers over my cheeks to thread into my hair. She brings those pouty lips down to meet mine. They are as perfect and right as ever, just not so warm or fragile. The kiss begins tentatively, our mouths meeting in soft caresses, and builds in intensity.

My now-free hands slip around her shoulders and glide slowly over newly-formed curves, learning her body anew. This is a landscape I know intimately, and yet I'm exploring it for the first time. When Isabella's tongue drags slowly across my lips, I part them, allowing her to explore my mouth as she's never been able to before. I give control over to my mate, letting her taste and plunder as she wishes.

Eventually, she lifts her head to gaze into my eyes. "You taste even better than you smell, Edward." Her brows draw together, and she strokes a finger down the front of her throat. "What is this . . . stinging feeling I have?"

"Thirst, my love."

"Already?"

"I'm surprised it took you this long." I grin and twine a mahogany curl around my finger. "Usually sex isn't the _first _thing newborns concentrate on."

"Will you teach me how to feed?"

"Yes, of course." My hands settle over the flare of her hips, and I hesitate a moment, unsure how to address the issue of _what_ she intends to feed on. We've always been straight with one another, so I decide on the direct approach. "Isabella, what type of diet do you intend to follow?"

"The same as you."

"Are you sure? I won't be upset if you choose another way."

"I know you won't. It's what I want, but you have to show me how to . . . choose the right ones to drink."

"There are some bags of blood we brought with us. Alice thought of everything, I think."

"Oh, okay. Will we travel with the bags?"

"Travel?"

"When we leave for Italy."

An unpleasant feeling washes over me. "Isabella—"

"Don't, Edward." Her voice is pure ice. "I'm going to Italy with you, and we _will_ stop those sick bastards."

**~*RK*~**

Three days later, Isabella has learned to dress herself without ripping the clothes to shreds and open a door without tearing it off the hinges. She never seems to tire of looking at me or exploring my body with her newly sensitive fingertips or her all-seeing eyes. I have never been the subject of such scrutiny before, but I don't mind it one bit.

Alice has sequestered herself to monitor her ever-morphing visions. With so many of us involved, so many desires and agendas to account for, the variables at play are too numerous for her to settle on anything concrete. Each time a vision develops with any clarity, it dissolves into a hazy fog.

I've given up trying to convince Isabella to let me go to Italy without her. She's the most stubborn woman I've ever come across, my match in every way. I did insist she learn to feed from both animals and humans before we leave. We can't rely on bags of blood. There may be times no vile human specimens are easily accessible, and we can't afford to have any extra issues while on the road. There's also my concern Isabella won't be able to handle proximity to humans without going after them.

Isabella passes the animal-take-down test like a pro. Watching her streak stealthily through the trees and bring down a buck is a turn-on for me. Once she finishes, her eyes seek out mine.

"Are you all right, Edward? Was it—did you hear anything?"

"No, it was fine." I smile. In the middle of acclimating to being a vampire and prepping to go to Italy to face our enemies, she's worried about whether I picked up thoughts from a dying animal.

When evening falls, Rose accompanies us to a nearby town. We flank Isabella, using great caution as we draw closer to the human population. I cast my mind out, searching for suitable quarry. We haven't long to wait once we reach the seedier parts of town; the back alleys of bars are rife with vermin.

Isabella and I wear contact lenses to conceal our red eyes. I've tried to steer her away from the humans, but other than pulling in a harsh breath every so often, she's done remarkably well. We schooled her to stop breathing if necessary. So far, it hasn't been, and Isabella is enjoying sampling everything on the air with her newly attuned senses—even the vile smells.

Most of the storefronts we pass are closed for the day, except for a few bars, restaurants, a donut shop, and gas station. Neon signs light up the night, and white lights strung between the trees along the road lend a festive feel to the nearly deserted area. Past this quaint downtown section and around a corner or two, the darker, less populated areas are a nesting zone for the less savory. Due to the lateness of the hour, and the fact it's a weeknight, there are few stragglers on the streets.

I locate our first victim. He's actually an employee at one of the bars whose intent is to follow a drunken woman home and have his way with her. He's done it before. He only chose this job for the rich sea of victims it draws into his net. I bare my teeth and swallow back a mouthful of venom, feeling the vampire equivalent of an adrenaline rush. My muscles coil in readiness, but I must remember this kill belongs to Isabella.

I don't tell her yet because the few people on the street might notice something amiss if she reacts. I still can't believe how calm she is in the presence of humans.

"This way," I say.

As we enter a side alley that brings us that much closer to this scumbag, Isabella halts, her boots scuffing against the wet pavement. Rose and I stop with her. Her entire body stiffens, and she sniffs the air. "I smell one."

"One what?" Rose asks.

"A bad one. That way." Isabella points in the direction where the vile human smokes a cigarette out behind the bar while solidifying his plans for the evening. "Hold onto me. The burning . . . it's so much worse now."

I grab her arm, tugging her back a moment. "Remember, we can't draw attention to what we are. I know it's difficult when dealing with the scum of the earth, but there can't be any witnesses, and the body must be disposed of afterward."

She glares back at me, lifting her chin in defiance. "I'm not some wild animal, Edward!"

"Perhaps not, but you're no longer human," Rose reminds her. "You have the instincts of a predator, and they sometimes kick in without warning. Be mindful of that."

"I promise. I'd never expose us."

As we draw closer, I scan the area. He's alone in a dead-end alley. It couldn't be more perfect, really. The three of us stand at the corner of the building just out of sight while Isabella breathes deeply until she acclimates to his scent.

"I can handle it now," she says.

"You're all clear, Isabella," I whisper in her ear. "Keep it clean and quiet. If you need us, we'll step in."

"Okay. Wish me luck." She goes up on tiptoe and pecks me on the lips before sashaying away down the alley.

The scumbag notices her and takes a long drag off his cigarette, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. "Hey, pretty lady. You lost?"

"Not exactly." Isabella ducks her head down, feigning shyness. Once she's within a few feet of him, her demeanor changes as she stalks closer, tossing thick ropes of bouncing mahogany curls casually over one shoulder.

_Oh, she's a pretty one. I'd like to see those sweet lips wrapped around my dick._

My first instinct is to go after him, protect her, then I realize she doesn't need me for that anymore. I bite back a growl as bits of powdered brick sift to the damp pavement.

"Easy," Rose whispers, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Isabella plucks the cigarette out of the dirtbag's hand, tosses it to the ground, and crushes it under the heel of her black leather boot.

"Hey! Whadda ya think you're doin'?"

She crowds him, pushing him back against the bricks. "Those things will kill you." She laughs at her own joke before pinning his shoulders with her hands and pressing her knee into his groin.

"Whoa! Watch the rocks there, sweet thing. If it's action you want, you only hafta ask." He lets out a low laugh. "I don't mind it rough if that's what you're inta'."

Isabella leans in close to his face, just the way I coached her, allowing a cloud of her venom-laced breath to confuse and entice her prey. "You'll have to pardon me—I'm a little new at this. Tilt your head to the left."

He grunts but does as she asks. Isabella leans in and latches onto his neck, taking strong pulls. He struggles for a moment but has no chance of pulling free. As soon as the anesthetic properties of her venom kick in, his body relaxes between Isabella's and the brick wall.

She's thirsty, and it's over quickly. When she raises her head from the crook of his neck, a rivulet of blood rolls from the side of her mouth. Sensing it, she swipes the crimson ribbon with her index finger and licks it off. Not bad for a first feeding. I ignore the inappropriate stirring in my pants; we still have work to do.

Isabella and I carry him between us, pretending to be assisting a drunken friend. Once we're off the street, I toss him over my shoulder, and the three of us streak into the nearby woods. The slime doesn't deserve a proper burial, but we can't afford to have bodies found drained of their lifeblood.

By the time we're done, it's nearing last call at the local bars, so we keep to the trees where I can listen for anything out of the ordinary. There's nothing except an angry bar manager that wants to know "where the fuck Marco got off to, the lazy, soon-to-be-unemployed fucker."

I caress Isabella's face with the pad of my thumb. "You did well tonight. Are you still thirsty?"

She giggles, rubbing a hand over her belly. "I'm practically sloshing, Edward. I'm a bit more petite than you are, remember?"

Rose smiles, patting Isabella on the arm. "Good job . . . sis." The word seems foreign on her tongue, and she looks as surprised to say it as I am to hear it. Then her forehead furrows. "You did say earlier that you _smelled_ a bad one, right?"

"Yeah . . . _sis_." Isabella grins and smacks Rose on the back, sending her flying into a tree. "Oh, shit! Sorry." She looks down at her offending hand, horrified.

I laugh freely, and it feels so good. Seeing Rose smacked around—even if it is by accident—is an extra special bonus.

Rose shakes her hair back in place and shoots a glare my way, but her look softens when she notices how upset Isabella is. "No, no, honey. Don't worry about it. You just don't know your own strength yet." She cocks an eyebrow and turns a spiteful look on me. "Maybe you'll break Edward's balls—take him down a peg or two."

"You wish, Ice Queen. I wonder how many times you've cracked poor Emmett's." I glare back at her for a few seconds, and then we both smirk.

Things are beginning to ease between us. For the first time, I openly admit to myself that it pleases me. Maybe there's hope for me and my family yet.

I turn to my mate. "Can you explain what you smell?"

"The rest of the humans smell good, but I don't want to hurt them because . . . because I was one of them. This guy smelled different. The best way I can describe it is an underlying scent that's somewhere between human and animal."

"Rose, have you ever experienced this?"

"No."

"Let's test it out."

For the next few hours, we skulk around the underbelly of town. Isabella sniffs them out, and I confirm her judgment through their minds. She's right one hundred percent of the time. Fascinating.

When we finally arrive back at the cabin, Alice is virtually bouncing off the walls, though she isn't her typical bubbly self. "It's time to go, Edward."

"You're sure?"

"As sure as I'm getting. Demetri managed to get Aro to send Felix and Jane with him to track us."

"What about Renata?"

Alice tilts her head with a sour look. "C'mon, Edward! You know that's not possible. She never leaves Aro's side. The odds will never be better than this."

"Who's Renata?" Isabella asks.

We gather around the fireplace in the living room to talk. Even though Isabella no longer suffers from the cold, she still enjoys the warmth from a crackling fire.

"Renata has a special gift. She can redirect anyone who tries to come directly at her and whomever she's shielding. Aro goes nowhere without her by his side."

"He does this so nobody can take him out?"

"Exactly. He's a coward, Isabella."

She stares thoughtfully into the fire for a few seconds. "How many can Renata protect at one time?"

"That's a very good question. Just those in her immediate proximity—she can't, for instance, protect the entire Volturi guard."

"So a little bit of distraction . . ."

"No." I shake my head. "Her _only _job is to protect Aro. If she failed, there would be purple smoke billowing out the castle chimneys. Anyway, he's not the only one we have to be concerned with."

"Aren't the rest of them just sheep?"

Rose and Alice simply watch our exchange, Rose looking proud, Alice looking thoughtful.

"Yes and no. There are many gifted among them, but Aro is not the only obstacle. His brothers, Marcus and Caius, also rule over the Volturi."

Alice interrupts, "This is a great conversation, but we need to get going. We have a small window of opportunity before Jane and Felix realize they've been duped."

"Alice, do you know how we're going to pull this off?" I like to know I'm going to win before I enter into a dire situation.

"Not exactly, but this is the one sliver of light I see in the dark. Every other possibility ends in many clouds of purple smoke—or forced servitude. I think we can do this."

"All right. How are we getting there?"

"The Cullen jet is too obvious, so I had Esme convince our mechanic to say there's a problem with the pre-flight checks. We're getting a smaller plane, one the Volturi won't be alerted about when it lands."

"Excellent."

Rose becomes animated, a deadly light glowing in the recesses of her amber eyes. "Well, as my Monkey Man likes to say—let's go crack some heads!"

"Um, Rose . . . you can't come." Alice looks apologetic.

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because then all of us who have the pieces of the cure would be there. That's too dangerous. You need to keep moving until this is over."

Rose stomps her foot, nearly breaking through the wood planks of the floor. "Why me?"

"Because you had more pieces of the cure than we did. Also, Edward and I have to be there—me for my visions and Edward for his mind reading."

Another colorful string of expletives lets loose from Rose's pretty mouth, but she finally crosses her arms and acquiesces. "Fine."

I touch her arm. "Rose, you must realize your part in this is no less important. You helped come up with the cure, and now you must protect the information from that maniac. If something goes wrong, it might buy us a little time."

"Yeah, I guess."

"But most of all, Rose?" I wait for her to look at me. "Thank you for all you've done for me and my mate. I'll never be able to repay you."

"That means a lot coming from you, Edward. It really does." Rose smiles at me. "So where do you want me to go?"

**~*RK*~**

As the small private plane wings us toward Italy, Isabella curls up in my lap. She can no longer sleep, but she's silent for most of the ride—withdrawn. I ask about it once, but she merely shakes her head and goes back to ruminating.

Alice is also in her own world. She steeps herself in thoughts of Jasper and their impending reunion although he's been instructed to remain invisible when we arrive.

Emmett and Esme are leading Demetri and company on a wild goose chase, dropping hints of my scent and Isabella's along the way. Demetri is heavily banking on us to succeed. If we fail, Aro will surely discern his part in the subterfuge, and he'll be as good as dead. I wonder at Demetri's motivation, but I really don't care—I only care that we come out of this as unscathed as possible. It doesn't seem likely we can best Aro on our own, but there is no other choice. If we run, it's only a matter of time before he finds us. And then there would be no mercy.

When the pilot announces our landing is imminent and asks us to return to our seats and fasten our seatbelts, Isabella ignores the request and remains curled in my lap, still as stone. I'm worried about her, about what's going through her mind. I'm shut out of her thoughts and can only go by the non-verbal clues she emits.

The landing is smooth, the weather outside bleak and gray with ample cloud cover. Alice has a sleek black Mercedes with heavily tinted windows waiting for us. I know she'd rather have a loud, racy sports car, but this will allow us to blend in.

The ride from the small airstrip to Volterra is short and somber. Isabella still isn't talking. It's as if she isn't here at all. I pull the car to the side of the road just outside the small village and sweep a finger along her jawline.

"Isabella?"

She looks back at me with her beautiful crimson eyes. They are cold for a second, calculating, and then they fill with the love she has for me.

"Are you all right? Is something wrong? You don't have to do this. We can contact Jasper, have you remain with him until it's finished."

"Shh . . ." Isabella places a finger against my lips. "I'm fine. I need to be there, Edward. Isn't that right, Alice?"

Alice, who's been sitting silently in the back seat staring out the window with glazed eyes, finally engages with us. "Yes. She needs to be there."

I scan Alice's mind but find a dark void filled with occasional thoughts of Jasper. I have no chance against her; my gift is still spotty, and she's already an expert at keeping me out.

It all comes down to trust—and maybe a little bit of faith in Isabella's God.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Any theories about what's coming? How about what's up with Isabella? As always, I look forward to your thoughts. We're nearing the end of this puppy.**

**For ****_Broken Windows_****readers . . . don't fall over, but I'm working on the next chapter. It will probably be the last chapter unless it runs too long and needs to be split in two.**

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	34. Chapter 34 Convergence

**A/N: Hello, awesome readers! For those of you who read ****_Broken Windows,_****thank you for the positive response to the epilogue. For those who haven't read it—the story is now complete. Wahoo! Let's rejoin Edward and Co. in Italy, shall we? Buckle up.**

**Heaps of repose to my darlings, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for prereading, keeping the author amused, and being all around awesome.**

**Thanks to my betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), for their red pen prowess and for being vampire fast. Mwah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 34<strong>

**~Convergence~**

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><p><em><strong>God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose.<strong>_

_**Take which you please—you can never have both.**_

**~Ralph Waldo Emerson **

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><p>Isabella and Alice emerge from the small café and make their way to the Mercedes. Alice stows the black duffel they brought with them in the back seat.<p>

When the passenger door opens, I'm startled by Isabella's appearance. Gone are the jeans and Henley she wore on the plane ride over, replaced by skintight, black leather pants and a snug top with a plunging neckline—all of it hugging her delectable curves. No longer waif-thin and sickly, Isabella is a vision of sexiness and vitality. Her four-inch spike heels rasp against the cobbles, and then one long, luscious leg at a time slides into the car. The soft whisper of leather against leather incites thoughts of letting the seat back and pulling her over me, her lips moving over mine as her hands work my pants open to free me . . .

The slam of the car door jolts me out of the fantasy. "Shit." I suck in an unneeded breath and look into her face. "Shit."

Not only has Isabella changed clothes, but expertly applied make up adorns her face. There's a hint of blush on her cheeks, her lips stained ruby, but what absolutely fascinates me are her eyes. Midnight blue shadow covers her delicate lids, a smoky line sweeps beneath her dark lashes, and each outer corner segues into a complex network of curlicues in cobalt and silver. "Shit."

Isabella smirks at me. "Your vocabulary prowess is astounding, Edward."

Alice giggles from the back seat.

"I—" My eyes rake over her again. "What's all this?"

The amusement slips from Isabella's face, her expression hardening. She points to her eyes. "This is war paint." Her fingers leave the decoration to glide over the swell of one breast, along the curve of her waist, to the flare of her hip. "I am whole now, and no one will ever take me down again."

I stare back at her, speechless. Isabella always fascinated me with her strength, but the steel emanating from her ruby eyes frightens me. "Isabella, we're about to go into the wolves' den. We must tread carefully with the Volturi."

"Not to worry. I've been coached." Her smile is saucy but leaves me cold.

I glance back at Alice, who seems to find the scenery around us intensely interesting. Before the words come forth from my lips, Alice beats me to it. "We're not calling this off, Edward. Inaction is a decision, too, and it has far reaching consequences."

It feels as if everyone knows what's going on except me, and that isn't a place I allow myself to visit often. I'm used to being in control, and ever since Jenks called me with Hunter's offer to track down his bail-jumping wife, my life has careened out of control. Don't get me wrong—some of the most wonderful things have occurred, but that doesn't mean I like where this is headed.

"Edward, do you trust me?" Isabella's fingers twine with mine.

My eyes meet hers. "Of course I do."

"Then stop over-thinking this. I'm well aware what these freaks can do to us. I'm not being reckless—I know exactly what I'm doing."

"Care to share the plan with me then?"

"No. Aro can read your mind, but I'm banking on the fact that he can't read me."

With nothing left to say, I put aside my reservations and place my trust in my mate. Even when she announces that we will walk right into the mouth of the lion, I say nothing. This satisfies Alice, who glances around us as we leave the car and walk the narrow streets hoping to catch a glimpse of Jasper. She doesn't see him as we walk, and I don't hear his mind before the Castle Volturi looms ahead, its massive stone structure casting a shadow over the street. It's the middle of the afternoon; many tourists stroll the cobbled streets and alleys, vendors sell their wares, but the shadowed area is conspicuously empty, avoided. It's as if the tourists and townspeople instinctively shy away from the evil emanating from within the castle walls.

Isabella strides up to the door and pulls the thick crimson and gold twined rope that sets off a chime inside. I smirk. _How Addams Family._

The heavy wooden door is opened by a human female with cascades of dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. Her pale face is artfully made up, and she smiles pleasantly. "May I help you?"

Isabella steps forward. "We're here to see Aro."

The woman's forehead creases. _I wasn't told of any appointments. _"Do you have an appointment?"

"Not an official one, but if you mention Isabella Swan-Hunter, I think he'll be happy to make an exception."

"Very well. Why don't you come in?" _Swan-Hunter! My God._ She leads us through a cavernous entryway to a sitting area across from the reception desk. "Please make yourselves comfortable, and I'll be back in a moment." The sound of her heels echos off the marble floors as she hurries away.

The three of us stand there and wait. When Isabella looks as if she might speak, I hold a finger up to my lips and shake my head. Every word we say from here on out can potentially be heard and used against us.

Our greeter must have gone fairly deep inside the castle because we're surrounded by silence. Eventually she returns, flanked by two vampires.

"Aro will see you now." She nods her head toward her companions. "They will escort you inside."

The grim-faced vampires turn and start walking back the way they came without a word, and we fall into step behind them. They lead us down several long hallways before we reach an open elevator. There seems to be no obvious way to summon it, and I surmise it's controlled from somewhere within. We step into the elevator in silence. Again, there are no buttons to push. A few seconds later, the doors slide closed and the elevator descends at least three floors by my estimation. It doesn't bode well that there is no way for us to control the elevator, but it's too late to turn back.

I attempt to read our escorts, but they're simple lackeys with no knowledge of who we are. They lead us into a dank hallway that looks exactly like the one we just left upstairs. Everything looks the same in this place—marble floors, stone walls, ancient-looking artifacts and paintings. Isabella's spike heels throw echoes.

We stop in front of massive oak double doors that swing open slowly. The two vampires step to either side of the entryway, leaving us alone to face what's inside.

"Do come in."

Across the vast room is a dais with a trio of thrones. Aro stands upon it with an exotic, dark-haired vampire at his back. Pale marble floors, stairs, columns, and walls create a lighter atmosphere than the dingy halls. I almost expect to see a skylight in the domed ceiling, though I know we're underground. Ten other vampires line the walls at intervals.

The three of us walk forward, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Aro gazes down on us.

"Edward Masen?"

I bow my head. "The rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated."

Aro smiles faintly. When his roving gaze lands on Isabella and remains there, I fight hard not to growl—that would not be wise.

Aro's amused eyes meet mine. "You don't like it that I'm looking her over. Why is that?"

"She's my mate." I glance at the two empty thrones, wondering where his brothers are. Marcus would have seen the connection between Isabella and me immediately. "Where are your brothers?"

"Ah, Caius and Marcus are scouting about. I'm flying solo right now—all decisions fall to me. Such a burden." His high-pitched laugh cuts through the air, and a chill runs down my spine. This is not good news. Aro is the craziest of them all, and according to Carlisle, his brothers often temper his lunacy. "I've been expecting you two . . ." he gestures to Alice and me ". . . but this rare beauty is a delightful bonus."

My jaw tightens, and I fight to keep my hands from curling into claws.

_Easy, Edward, _Alice thinks.

"You may change your mind about me being delightful," Isabella says.

"Do tell." _Brave lass._ His thought holds admiration, but I worry about how long that will last.

I decide to draw attention away from Isabella. "Aro, where is Carlisle? Is he all right?"

Aro's eyes snap to mine. "You think I would hurt my old friend? He's fine."

"May we see him?"

"In time, Edward, in time." Aro descends a few stairs, halting on the bottom one and turning his attention back to Isabella. "Come forward, my dear. What is your name?"

I want to grab her and carry her out of here.

Isabella steps away from me toward Aro. "I'm Isabella Masen."

"Isabella . . . Is that not the name of Senator Hunter's _wife_?" Aro tilts his head inquisitively.

Isabella stiffens. "James Hunter is my _ex-_husband."

"Correct me if I'm wrong—you had the blood anomaly, and yet you've been turned?"

"That's right."

"How is that possible?"

"You should know. Your minions seized all of Dr. Cullen's research and brought it back here." Isabella's tone is acid.

Fear shoots through me. "Isabella, don't."

Aro holds a hand up to me. "It's quite all right, Edward. Isabella is a newborn and needs some time to adjust to our ways. No harm done." His attention turns back to her, a crafty look in his eyes. "And I'm sure _you_ know that research was incomplete."

Through Aro's eyes, I watch a smirk twist Isabella's lips. Instead of addressing the research, she changes the subject. "I'd like to see James. May I?" Her voice is soft and cajoling.

We all stare at her in surprise. Aro recovers quickly, amusement returning to his gaze. "You may. Not alone, of course."

"I have no desire to be alone with that . . . with James."

_This should be interesting._ Aro delights in the coming confrontation. He snaps his fingers. "Bring Hunter in."

Isabella is only three feet in front of me, but it feels like a mile. My fingers twitch with the need to touch her and assure myself she's all right.

_Edward, she can take care of . . . without you . . . okay? _Alice's thought, while directed straight at me, cuts in and out like a staticky radio station. Shit. Not now.

"You look distressed, Edward." Aro watches me closely. _What's going . . . with . . . interesting._

"I'm fine."

Fragments of thought from around the room start to echo in my head. Fuck. My agitation level ratchets up as the words bounce off the inside of my skull, coming from all directions at once. Isabella turns to look at me with concern in her eyes.

Alice whispers, "Focus." I'm not sure which one of us she's directing it to.

A door to the right of us opens, and Alec leads in James Hunter. Isabella steps back, wedging herself between us, with Alice to the left and me to the right.

The illustrious senator looks rested and well taken care of. He smiles at Aro, who takes in everything with interest. "What's going—" The words dry up when James' eyes light on me. "You!"

Before I can get myself in check, I bare my teeth and snarl. Remembered pain flares in my memory. So does our conversation in Senator Hunter's office before he shot me in the face several times with his atomizer.

Hunter stabs a finger in my direction. "I killed you!"

"You did a shit job of it."

"Enough!" Aro claps his hands together once sharply. "Senator Hunter, you have a visitor. Someone who would very much like to speak with you." The amusement returns to his expression.

"Really? Who?"

"Me." Isabella steps forward in all her curvy, spiked-heel, leather-clad glory.

Hunter gasps, his eyes raking over her in surprise. "Bella . . ."

"_Isabella!_" Her name is a whip crack in the air, and before anyone anticipates her move, Isabella is an inch from his face.

"This isn't possible . . . you—you _can't_ be immortal!" Hunter's face twists into an ugly mix of anger, disbelief, and defeat.

"Oh, but I am, James."

Through Hunter's horrified eyes, I watch the corners of Isabella's ruby lips turn up in a triumphant smile. Her scarlet eyes are cold and flat. In this moment, she looks the part of the fierce vampiress, all humanity absent.

"What the fuck is this, Aro?" Hunter sputters, glaring Aro's way.

Aro simply raises his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm curious to know myself."

"This is bullshit! You double-crossed me!"

Isabella leans in close enough for her cool breath to ghost over her ex-husband's face. "No, he didn't. I arrived here as a vampire."

"Who did this then? Who turned you?"

"I did." I take a step in Hunter's direction, glaring, but Isabella shakes her head. At the same moment, Alice grabs my arm to restrain me.

"You? You should be dead. How did you survive?" Even when faced with a roomful of vampires, one of them being his pissed-off ex-wife, James Hunter is an arrogant asshole.

Before I react to his remark, Isabella grabs the front of his shirt and propels him back into the wall, her snarling face just inches from his. I look to Aro, but he's unconcerned and amused, watching the scene play out with great curiosity. Alice's hand tightens on my arm.

"Look at you . . . so fiercely beautiful." James looks Isabella up and down with admiration.

"You've taken so much from me." Her voice drips with accusation. "My parents, my freedom, _my child_. I almost died from the leukemia—all the tests you ran on me, the treatments you put off."

He squirms beneath her iron hold. "Be—Isabella . . . I was trying to save us both. I knew immortality would cure the leukemia."

"What about murdering my parents?"

"Your parents died before we met."

"You handpicked me, James. I know. Edward found your files at the compound in Spain."

"Lies! He's just trying to turn you against me."

"Really? What about Hannah? You took my child away and used her as a bargaining chip to gain my cooperation—that is until I found out you never intended to keep your end of the deal!"

"Do you really believe I would hurt my own child?" James reasons.

Isabella laughs humorlessly and shakes her head. "Actually, _Senator_, I think you'd sell your own mother to get your way."

Aro snorts with a hand over his mouth, obviously delighting in the entire scene.

Hunter loses his shit. "You know what? I did have your parents killed! And I'd bleed every last drop out of that kid if it meant I could live forever! You should be in the ground by now, you bitch!"

Silence falls over the room, the only sound the beating of James Hunter's heart and his harsh breathing. He pulls his arms close to his sides as if trying to hug himself.

And then Isabella laughs. "You know what, James? You'll never be immortal. Scum like you doesn't deserve to pollute the earth forever."

"Oh, I will. Aro and I have a gentleman's agreement. I will be granted immortality and a place here with the Volturi."

"Well, isn't that cozy. Except Aro doesn't have the cure _or_ the serum, does he?"

"That's only a matter of time—something you're out of!" Hunter slips his hand from his pocket and sprays something in Isabella's face.

I growl and move forward, already knowing what it is, but Alice hangs onto my arm. "Edward, no."

"But-"

"Trust me."

Isabella shakes her head and crushes the atomizer in her fist while Hunter is still holding it. The crunch of metal and snapping of bones echo around the room followed by his screams. Blood drips to the floor, the scent of it "wrong" in the same way Isabella's was before she was turned. Isabella pins him to the wall by his throat, allowing his broken hand to hang free. He screams again, nearly passing out from the pain. She waits patiently for him to stop blubbering, then leans in and whispers, "I'm immune."

Aro and I both say, "What?" at the same time.

_We've all . . . cure as . . . precaution. _Alice's thought comes in fragments, but I surmise Isabella and Alice took the cure before we left for Italy.

The look on Aro's face indicates a dawning realization that he's been doubly hoodwinked. "Bring Carlisle in!"

"Let go of me, you psycho bitch!" James shrieks.

"You know what, James? I'm ashamed to admit that ever since Edward came back from Spain, I've been dreaming of getting my hands on you." Isabella's voice lowers to a dangerous whisper. "Fantasies of snapping the vertebrae in your back, rendering you paralyzed and helpless. Putting you in one of those nursing homes that you hate so much with its reek of disinfectant and watching you wither away and die, old and infirm. To have people feed you, bathe you, and slide a bedpan beneath your pathetic wrinkled ass."

Despite the agonizing pain, Hunter's blue eyes grow stormy with anger, and he glares at Isabella. "You forget where you are. The Volturi are in charge here! You're nothing. You always have been. I pulled you out of Nowhereville and made you a senator's wife."

"You're smooth and smarmy. You glad-hand left and right, buy and sell people as if they're commodities . . . lie, cheat, and bullshit your way through everything. I was young and innocent, and I believed in you—even loved you! You approached me like any other deal, James. Our courtship was nothing more than one of your political campaigns, full of empty promises."

Hunter smirks. "That's right. I campaigned for you, and you were easy. Like taking candy from a baby."

I flash across the room, snarling, but Isabella holds a hand up. "No, Edward."

Alec steps forward, sending a rolling cloud of darkness my way. Isabella startles, her head snapping in his direction. Her eyes widen, and she steps back, reaching a hand out to touch me. Then the damnedest thing happens—the bubbling murk slips up and over us like a rip curl while everyone else is blinded.

"What's happening?" Hunter calls out.

Isabella pulls me up against her body and looks around wildly. "What is that, Edward?"

I place my lips against her ear and speak as low as I can. "Alec can blind people with this dark mist. Somehow, you're deflecting it."

She clings to me and twirls us away from Hunter. As we move, the mist parts, eddying around the invisible barrier.

The slam of a door breaks the spell, and the mist returns to Alec. He looks surprised to see us across the room close to Alice again, and so does Aro. Hunter still seems dazed by the experience, leaning against the wall cradling his broken hand.

Carlisle is escorted into the room by one of the guards. He looks well, though his eyes are dark with thirst. When he sees us there, his expression is a mixture of relief and wariness. _It's good to . . . whole again, Edward._

I shake my head like a dog with itchy ears, though I know it won't help. Something inside me is still broken.

"Attention!" Aro slaps his palms together once. The glitter in his eyes is dangerous. "Carlisle, you told me you didn't have the cure perfected when you arrived here, and yet, here stands Edward in one piece. Care to explain?"

My brow creases with confusion. Surely Aro used his gift on Carlisle.

"I didn't and don't have the cure, Aro. We all worked on the research so no one person would have complete knowledge. Whoever has the cure will have ultimate power, and it's too dangerous to allow that to fall into the hands of one."

"Even you, good doctor?"

"I don't want that responsibility."

Aro steps down and walks slowly over to Carlisle. He usually has others brought to stand below the dais because of his short stature, but the rage boiling beneath the surface is evident, and he doesn't seem to care that he has to look up into my sire's face. "And why in the world would you think that decision lies with you?"

"Aro, I never asked for this. It was thrust upon me, and I made the best decision I could under the circumstances."

"You made the _wrong_ decision!" Aro's voice is a ragged growl. "Give me your hand."

For the first time since I've known him, Carlisle is scared. He shakes his head. "We made an agreement long ago, old friend."

"Agreements don't survive treason."

"No treason has been committed! I was protecting my family—trying to save my son and his mate. When we came up with a cure, I would have shared it with the Volturi. Surely you don't believe I would hoard it."

"Share it. _Share_ it? We are royalty! We decide who and what and when! Now give me your hand."

A guard kicks Carlisle in the back of the legs, driving him to his knees before Aro. Without a choice, Carlisle offers his hand to Aro.

We're so fucked.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: If you haven't already guessed, there will be more fun and excitement coming up. Any thoughts or theories? Edward is still recovering his gift, but there was no time for him to hang on the beach a sip on a Mai Tai. Makes things more challenging anyway.**

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	35. Chapter 35 The Reaping

**A/N: Hello, rockin' readers! Ready for some confrontation? Buckle up!**

**Huge thanks to my lovely prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, for their ever encouraging feedback and hand-holding. Love you gals!**

**As always, huge thanks to my awesome betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), for catching my flubs and smoothing the prose. Most spoiled author evah!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 35<strong>

**~The Reaping~**

_**He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.**_

_**~Friedrich Nietzsche **_

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><p>Carlisle places his hand in Aro's while we stand helpless. Renata moved with Aro and stands at his back, protecting him. If I make a move, the surrounding vampires will rip me apart before I lay a hand on him. Isabella seems to have a shield that deflects the gifts of other vampires, but that won't stop them from physically overpowering us.<p>

"Please, Aro," Carlisle beseeches.

"You've lost all credibility. The great Carlisle, paver of peaceful roads, champion of the underdog." Aro's tone drips with disdain.

Isabella glances at me anxiously, but I shake my head and press a finger to her lips to keep her from speaking. I seek out Alice's gaze, but her eyes are unfocused.

From my right side, I sense James Hunter edging closer. _What the hell is going on here? Why are they upset . . . holding Carlisle's hand? Is he . . . zap him?_

I realize Hunter has no idea what Aro's gift is and have to wonder why Aro hasn't used it on him yet. The answer isn't long in coming—Aro is a coward; the fear of the unknown kept him away. He'd offer Hunter anything, promise him anything, to give the impression they were partners. This also means Aro probably doesn't know about Spain or any details about Hannah.

I wait until Aro is distracted with Carlisle to type out a text on my phone. There's no service down here, but I covertly pass it to Isabella.

_Aro didn't use his gift on Hunter. He doesn't know much._

Silence falls as Aro's head tips back while he rifles Carlisle's memories. Aro's gift works differently from mine in that he can see all of the memories one has ever had. Though the vampire mind can process quickly, Carlisle is over three hundred years old. Lines of frustration appear on Aro's forehead. His eyes snap open, and he gazes down at my sire.

"You will bring your thoughts to the current time. I want to see what you know about this anomaly, serum, and cure business. Show me now!"

"Aro, is this—"

"Speak no more! Show me before I'm forced to do something we'll all regret."

With no further choice, Carlisle submits to Aro's probing. His memories are extracted rapidly and with greed. Aro is more than a mere blood drinker; he's a vampire of the mind, supping on the thoughts and emotions of others, taking great joy in the discomfort thrust upon his victims.

Carlisle grimaces, his head lowering as he gives up the information Aro seeks—information that will damn all of us and likely get us executed. My sire takes failure personally, but this is hardly his fault. My heart softens toward Carlisle.

"A human child? Who is this . . . miracle child?" Aro grips Carlisle's hand tighter, and his eyes pop open wide, mad with curiosity.

Isabella gasps, and I link my fingers with hers, praying she doesn't attempt to intervene. Alice stands to the side, head down, in a trance.

There are so many thoughts flying around the room, it's all I can do to keep it to a low drone. I have no chance of untangling the thought-strands and making sense of them, but I _can_ keep my mind sharp and in the present.

Carlisle remains silent, but the mind-meld goes on. It's difficult not to think of the answer to a question as it's asked.

"Ah. Where is this Hannah? And who are these beasts . . . _Wolves?_" Aro turns his head and trains his gaze on Isabella. "You shared their bloodline?"

Isabella nods. "Yes. I just recently found out my biological mother is Quileute."

"James Hunter is the child's father?"

"Unfortunately." She glares in Hunter's direction, drawing a chuckle from Aro.

"Oh my . . . such animosity." Aro smiles, then nods to one of the guards flanking James. "Bring him closer."

Hunter appears rather peaked, a fact I'd greatly enjoy if not for the perilous situation we're currently in.

Aro fixes Hunter with his demented claret gaze. "Are you Quileute as well?"

"What the hell is a Quileute?" James bristles, a rivulet of sweat rolling across his temple and down the side of his face. His respiration is labored, heart beating much too fast.

Aro addresses Isabella again. "What is a Quileute, my dear?"

"A member of a tribe. They live on a reservation not far from the Cullens."

"And the wolves?"

"Some of the Quileute are . . . shape-shifters."

Aro's face snaps back toward Carlisle, obviously receiving additional information. "What is this confrontation in the snow? Why a standoff with your entire coven?" He tilts his head. "Poisonous. Their bite kills?"

"Their bite is deadly to vampires," Carlisle answers.

"Demetri was there. Why?" Aro returns his full attention to Carlisle. The change is subtle, but a stiffening of his posture occurs. _Traitor!_ "Demetri struck a deal with you, did he?"

Hunter glances up. "Demetri? He's the other tracker I hired to find Isabella."

Aro laughs harshly. "Well, isn't this rich? Both trackers betrayed you and attempted to fool the Volturi. Demetri should have known better."

With all that's come out already, I can't stop myself from speaking up. "Aro, do you have any idea what this pathetic piece of trash has done? Have you used your gift on _him_?"

Aro glares at me and flaps a hand impatiently. "What are you on about, Edward?"

"What am I _on_ about? This dirtbag has a compound in Spain where he conducts experiments on vampires! He's got boxes and boxes of research and record books of failed attempts to turn himself. The vampires' bodies become desiccated shells that crumble to dust under your fingertips!" I pause, running a hand roughly through my hair while Aro stares at me like a deer caught in headlights. "There's no defense against his blood. He wants to be immortal and will do anything to achieve it—even experiments on his own flesh and blood!" I glare at Hunter before returning my gaze to Aro's shocked face.

Aro's grip on Carlisle loosens, and he steps back with a hand to his chest. "Are there more of them out there?"

"Them?" I raise my eyebrows as one of Aro's thoughts crack through the shield of all the others, ringing true and clear in my mind.

_Our species cannot be compromised under any circumstances. We must hunt down and destroy any such anomalies._

With great difficulty, I restrain myself from reacting.

"And where does the child fit into this?" Aro asks.

Isabella growls, lunging for him. I tighten my grip on her hand, knowing she can break free if she really wants to. "Isabella, don't!"

She allows me to restrain her, but the hatred in her voice is clear. "Leave my Hannah out of this! That piece of shit did experiments on her, too, and she doesn't have the anomaly!"

"Is this true?" Aro looks to Hunter.

"Yeah. The kid doesn't have the extra chromosome."

"Are there others who do?" Aro's voice is soft, his face a study in neutrality, but I know better.

Hunter shakes his head. "I don't think so. I conducted exhaustive searches before discovering Bella shared the same chromosome I have. My resources scoured labs all over the country trying to find someone. I finally decided having a child might be my only chance."

Alice gasps, her head coming up and snapping our way just as Isabella shifts on her feet, slipping my grasp.

Isabella turns to face James, an animalistic sound issuing from deep in her throat. She grips his head between her hands, bringing their faces within inches of each other, until they nearly share breath. The two vampires flanking Hunter move to stop Isabella, but Aro shakes his head imperceptibly.

Hunter stares into the face of his ex-wife-turned-vampire, eyes wide.

"You brought _my_ child into this world as an experiment. I can't explain how that makes me feel, but it has convinced me that you have no redeeming qualities. You are a scourge upon the earth."

"Bella, what did you expect me to do? We were going to die!"

"_I_ was going to die. You were free to live out your pathetic existence to a ripe old age. Evil fucks like you rarely suffer along with the peons, isn't that right?"

"Anyone with the means would have searched for a solution!"

"But not everyone would procreate to secure their own personal guinea pig. Did you ever love Hannah at all?" Isabella's question holds so much pain, and I know she partially blames herself for not realizing what a scum she was married to.

Hunter's mouth opens then closes, but his eyes say what he doesn't—he never loved Hannah; she was simply a means to an end.

Isabella's eyelids flutter shut for a moment. "This is too good for you," she mutters, then snaps his neck.

Hunter's eyes roll up, and his body sags, hanging from her iron grasp. Isabella yanks her hands away, allowing him to slump to the floor, dead.

A collective cacophony erupts around the room—gasps, murmurs, shouts—except for Aro, who remains perfectly still. His face gives nothing away, but the undisguised mad gleam in his eyes sends a shockwave of foreboding through me.

This is the precise outcome he was hoping for.

_I've got them now._

Baring my teeth, I step forward and pull Isabella behind me with a growl.

Aro cackles. "Oh, what are you going to do, Edward? Fight off my entire Guard?" He steps back onto the dais where he can look down on us once again. When he raises his arm and points a finger in Carlisle's direction, it trembles with his rage. "You, _old friend_, have committed treason and shall be put to death."

Isabella grips my sides hard enough to cause pain even as I lose my breath over Aro's proclamation. Alice cries out plaintively, the anguish on her features telling me she's already seen the outcome, and it's not in our favor. At this moment more than any other, I'm grateful my gift isn't working properly.

Carlisle's head snaps up, his eyes disbelieving. "Treason? Surely you don't believe that. I was protecting my family and the future of our kind."

"Were you now?" Aro's angry glare turns on me. "And you, Edward? What were your goals in all this?"

My jaw tightens. "I only had one—to protect and save my mate and her daughter."

"Well, then . . . I guess you failed. Senator Hunter is dead—thank you, dear Isabella, for the entertainment. The great Carlisle Cullen is about to be executed, and I've always wanted an excuse to kill you, Edward."

"No! You can't!" Isabella lunges out from behind me, but I grab her around the waist and pull her back. She hisses and curses, flailing her arms and legs. "We've come too far for evil to win!"

"Now that all known carriers of the chromosome are dead, the only loose end is little Hannah."

"Don't you say her name, you fiend!" Isabella fights my grip harder, and I struggle to hold her back.

"Shh . . . Isabella. Don't let him bait you," I whisper against her hair. My voice seems to visibly calm her, though she still strains away from me.

Aro claps his hands. "Alec, take a group of our best and find this child. Bring her to me . . . unharmed."

"No! No! Edward, _do _something!" Isabella sobs.

Anger rockets through me, but I fight to maintain some control. I can't help anyone if I die prematurely. "Aro, please. She's just a child. Surely, even you wouldn't kill one so young."

"Kill? We will _worship_ the wee lass. Her veins hold the cure, after all."

"No . . ." Isabella's moan is low and tortured.

"I've had enough excitement for today. It will take some time for my Guard to locate the young princess, so we'll put off the executions until she's been secured."

**~*RK*~ **

The spacious room is round, the walls fashioned of smooth stone. Scarlet drapes with gold accents hang around the perimeter, but no windows lay beyond the heavy coverings. In fact, we rode the elevator a few more floors below ground to reach this place.

Aro allowed Isabella to remain with me—probably hoping to avoid the inevitable fight if he refused us. I'm not sure where Carlisle and Alice are, or if they're together.

The only minds within my range have been the guards posted at the door. It's easy to read them since there's no other mind noise to distract me. The two of them are pissed off because they have to babysit us. There's no way out of here. These chambers were made especially to hold vampires. The only way out is by taking the special elevator up into the castle. The stone walls are reinforced with special metals and wired with alarms. No vampire, no matter how strong or determined, could break out before the Volturi was alerted. Thus, it's the opinion of both sentries that having them guard the door is redundant.

A dry sob comes from Isabella who is hunched in a ball on the king-size bed. "Why can't I cry?" She claws at the bedspread, shredding the expensive material. "And why the hell is there a bed in here?"

I slip onto the bed and curl myself around her, sitting up—chest pressed to her back, arms anchoring her to me, my lips at her ear. "I'm sorry, sweet one. Vampires can't sleep, and they also can't cry. Usually strong emotions are expelled in other ways. Aggression . . . passion. I can't answer your query about the bed."

Isabella's body unfurls and sinks against mine. Her head tips back, and her legs relax until they touch my longer ones. She wears me like protection. I want to provide safety to my mate, but we're in so deep—literally and figuratively. There's a small amount of satisfaction in knowing I affect her this way, that I can offer her comfort in the midst of this crisis.

"Why didn't you tell me about the crying?"

I smile against her shoulder, confounded by the complaint. "It never crossed my mind. Experiencing an inferno for three days and never sleeping or dreaming again seemed to be more of an issue. Would you have refused to become a vampire if you knew you would never shed tears again?"

"Well, no. It's just . . . I would have spent some time crying before you turned me—got it out of my system, you know?" She runs a finger along my forearm, eliciting a tingle.

I still find her quirkiness utterly adorable and endearing. "Forgive me." My lips whisper against the side of Isabella's neck, and she shivers.

"It's nothing I have to forgive you for. Sorry—that's hardly what I should be whining about with the predicament we're in, huh?" She tilts her head to the side, offering more of her creamy skin to me, which I take the opportunity to sample with my lips. "Edward, how long will it take them . . . to find her?"

"I don't know." I slip my cell out of my pocket and type on the screen: _We need to be cautious. There are two guards outside the door._

"Oh." Isabella takes the phone from me, erases my message, and types her own. _Can they hear everything we say?_

I pull away and wait for her to face me, then mouth, "Let's find out."

We start out at the foot of the bed, and Isabella speaks to me quietly while I scan the minds of the guards for any sign they hear us. Slowly, we make our way toward the door, moving a few feet each time. Nothing registers until we're ten feet away.

I hold a finger up to my lips, and we change direction. After ten minutes, it's clear we can only be heard by the door. As long as we keep our voices down, we can speak freely.

I lead Isabella back to the bed where we lie side by side with our arms wrapped around each other and her head tucked beneath my chin.

"There's a very good chance they won't get Hannah."

"Really?" Isabella's arms tighten around me. "Why?"

"Because the wolves will protect her as their own."

"My God, you're right. But what if the Volturi wipe out the entire tribe?"

"Aro better send his entire army if he expects to get through them."

Isabella tilts her head up so she can look at me. "You_admire_ them."

The corner of my lip twitches. "A little."

She smiles for a moment, and then it fades as her brow creases. "Do you really believe they can protect Hannah?"

I brush a few strands of hair back from her face, my fingers lingering against her skin. "I think they're very capable—especially against an enemy that is unfamiliar with them."

"What will Aro do if he doesn't get what he wants?"

I swallow hard, hating the answer. "It's likely he'll take it out on us."

I don't tell her what else Aro might have in mind—to use me, Carlisle, and Alice as bargaining chips with Isabella in an attempt to coerce her into giving up Hannah, or possibly to pit us all against each other in his quest for what he desires.

Once Aro realizes Isabella is impervious to most vampire gifts, he'll want to keep her and make her part of his elite. As Isabella's mate, I stand in the way of that happening and acknowledge the likelihood that fact may be my death sentence.

"We're getting out of here alive." Isabella says this with such conviction, I wonder if she knows something I don't.

"That would be ideal, but have I missed something? From where I sit, we're hundreds of feet below ground with a castle full of hostile vampires overhead, standing between us and freedom." She blanches, and I take her face between my hands, softening my words. "Don't get me wrong, sweet one—I'll do whatever it takes to protect you and Hannah. If there's any possible way out of this, I _will_ find it."

"I know you will." Her smile returns, and her eyes shine with love for me. "I _believe_, Edward. I believe in you, in us . . . and that God wouldn't lead us all this way only to let evil win out. Have faith. Please don't give up."

"Never. I'll never give up."

I brush my lips over hers, intending only to comfort. Isabella shocks me by responding with fire; her mouth presses hard against mine, her hands roaming over my back and gripping my shirt. The velvet of her tongue licks along my bottom lip, and I open to her, rolling onto my back and pulling her on top of me.

Isabella straddles my hips, caressing my face between her palms. Her tongue explores my mouth hungrily, small whimpers coming from the back of her throat. I rest my hands over the flare of her hips and rub back and forth slowly.

She grows bolder, making short work of the buttons on my shirt and running her fingers over my naked chest as she plants kisses on my neck. A thrill shoots through me when the rasp of her nails scratches over my nipples.

It's too much. My hands tighten over her curves, and I hiss.

"Isabella—" My attempted protest is swallowed by her soft lips moving over mine again.

Questing fingers pop the button and slip beneath the waistband of my jeans. I'm instantly hard. Isabella pulls the zipper down and frees me, taking me into her hands reverently. My palms instinctively land on her leather-clad ass, alternating gentle squeezes and slow circles.

"Touch all of me, Edward. Undress me." Isabella's seductive whisper causes me to groan and twitch in her capable hands even as I restrain the urge to thrust—or tear her clothes off and ravish her.

This feels wrong. After Isabella's change, we didn't have the luxury of making love as equals. We explored and kissed and caressed, learning how to touch each other all over again, but most of the time was spent teaching Isabella to feed and working out the details of the trip to Italy.

"Sweet one . . ." My hands leave the delicious curves of her ass to grasp her wrists and pull her hands out of my pants. I shift to a seated position against the headboard, guiding her with me.

Isabella straddles me and slings her arms around my neck. "What's wrong?"

"This is. We can't do this here."

"But what if we don't—"

I lean my head down to kiss her quickly, cutting off the end of a sentence I can't face hearing, let alone contemplating. My tongue strokes against hers, and I kiss Isabella senseless, wrapping my arms around her back to anchor her to me.

When our lips part, she laughs breathlessly. "For someone who thinks we shouldn't 'do this' right now, that was one soul-melting kiss."

I look down at my mate and wonder if I was crazy to stop what was about to happen between us. "Never doubt how very much I desire you. When this is all over, we'll have so much time to do this right."

Isabella gazes at me with an inscrutable expression, and she's obviously choosing her words carefully.

I never get to find out what she was going to say.

_Edward! . . . Edward!_

"Jasper?" I whisper incredulously.

"What?" Isabella asks with surprise as I fly off the bed with her in my arms. I set her on her feet, holding her tightly to my side.

The thought is coming from the eastern side of the chamber, a safe distance away from the door.

_I'm in an old tunnel system Demetri told me about. What's going on in there?_

I press close to the stone wall and whisper, "Can you hear me?"

_Yeah._

"Isabella and I are in a room together with two guards posted at the door. I don't know where they're keeping Alice and Carlisle." I go on to explain what occurred when we arrived and Aro's plan to abduct Hannah. "Jas, are you here alone?"

_Yup. I might not be able to get you out of there right now, but I can warn the Quileute about the Volturi coming after Hannah._

"Yes, yes, yes . . . tell them to get Hannah to safety. Aro can't be allowed to get his hands on her."

_There must be a way to get the rest of you out of there. I'm worried about Alice—after the way I've been treating her, I need to tell her how sorry I am._

"She knows. I'm not sure how we're going to get out." This is a time for brutal honesty.

"I do." Isabella leans in closer, speaking so Jasper and I will both hear her. "Jasper, if you can help them find a way to keep Hannah from the Volturi, I'll take care of the rest."

_What's she talking about, Edward?_

I draw back and look down at her, recognizing the strange light in her eyes. I first saw it when we were on the plane ride to Italy.

"Isabella, how?"

"Shh . . . don't fret, my love." She smooths the frown lines between my eyebrows and kisses me lightly on the lips. "If this is going to work, it has to be done just right. I can pull this off—as long as Hannah is away from the danger."

"But—"

"Stop, Edward."

"We should coordinate our plan."

"We just did."

Isabella has a secret. I can tell from her posture and the set of her jaw, she's not sharing.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Do you think Aro will get his hands on little Hannah? What do you think he plans to do with her if he does? As always, I love to hear your thoughts and theories!**

**Working on the next chapter of **_**I Saw You Coming**_**(gasp!) and **_**I Want it Painted Black**_**. Hoping to have ISYC out within a week with IWiPB the following—if all goes well. Once again, I thank you all for your patience. Life has settled down a bit, but I'm still struggling to find writing time.**

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	36. Chapter 36 Secrets and Lies

**A/N: Hey, rockin' readers! I've got a revelation filled chapter ahead for you. Thanks so much for your patience between updates.**

**Edward growls to my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea. These ladies rock my socks!**

**Thanks to my awesome betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara), for their invaluable input and for red penning my flubs. Best betas ever.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 36<strong>

**Secrets and Lies**

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><p><em><strong>If you reveal your secrets to the wind,<strong>_

_**you should not blame the wind**_

_**for revealing them to the trees.**_

**-Khalil Gibran**

Twenty-three days. Twenty-three excruciating days locked in a basement chamber with no outside communication and no sustenance. After day three, the guards left their post. The hum of the elevator is the last sound we heard as it carried our captors several floors above us. Jasper hasn't returned, and I'm pretty sure Alice and Carlisle are being held elsewhere since repeated callouts have gone unanswered.

Isabella's eyes turned to pools of shining obsidian a little over a week ago. Newborns need to feed often, and I shudder every time she paces the floor of our prison and whimpers with a hand to her throat. She refuses to complain more than that, but I know she's in a great deal of discomfort. I've gone far longer than this before without feeding, but I'm concerned for my mate.

I can't read her mind, but I can read her eyes. She's worried for Hannah, terrified the Volturi will be successful in their endeavor to locate our precious girl. Aro said they would worship Hannah because the cure runs through her veins. There are some fates worse than death.

The sudden hum of the elevator after three weeks of complete silence is a shock. As one, the two of us rush to the door and listen in an attempt to glean any possible information. Two sets of footsteps and two recognizable minds emerge when the metal doors swish open—the same two guards who were assigned to us previously. Both minds are focused on one thing: to bring us to Aro.

I turn to Isabella and mouth, _They're coming for us—to bring us to Aro._

Her eyes widen with fear. _Do they have Hannah? _she mouths back.

_Not sure._

And then our time is up.

The door opens, and the taller of the two guards says, "Come with us." They turn abruptly and walk out.

I take Isabella's hand, and we follow the silent guards down the hall and into the elevator. With no apparent signal given, it rises until the doors open to the floor where the throne room is.

When we enter, Aro is the lone occupant, seated on the dais with his head lowered. His long, dark hair curtains his face. The absolute stillness surrounding him like a shroud is alarming. I stiffen, my gait faltering for a millisecond, and Isabella looks up into my face. Her lips part, but I shake my head and tighten my hand over hers.

The guards lead us forward until we reach the bottom of the steps. They bow, though Aro never bothers to look up, then leave. The heavy wooden doors close with a muffled slam, and we're left alone with Aro.

The unnerving silence goes on and on, his mind silent to me. Isabella squeezes my hand but wisely remains silent.

Nearly ten minutes go by before he moves a muscle. He shakes his head and lets out a sharp laugh. It's an ugly sound, an evil sound. No good will come of this meeting—this much I know.

Aro clasps his hands and raises his head slowly. The look deep in his eyes has gone past crazy, straight to full-blown insane. He points a finger at Isabella. "You will tell me where the child is."

"You don't have her?" Isabella strains forward, stopping short of climbing the steps of the dais.

"No, and it's _unacceptable_!" Aro slams his fist down on the arm of the throne, and it disintegrates. "I'm not sure how it happened, but you will help me fix this. If you don't, I'll systematically kill everyone you hold dear."

"Why are you addressing Isabella?" Her name is a growl on my lips. Every muscle coils in readiness. It would take me 1.2 seconds to skim the steps, cross the dais, and snap his neck. What would the Volturi do to us if the head were cut off?

Aro's eyes meet mine. His are filled with cunning. "You think you can rush me, Edward? Come on, then." He beckons me with his hand, then leans forward on his ruined throne. "I always have a plan, youngling! You are so arrogant, so foolish."

Isabella twitches by my side, her grip on my hand growing painful. "What is it you want from us, you crazy bastard?"

Aro laughs. A true, from deep inside, laugh. I wonder how long it's been since something amused him so.

"You're a brave lass. I'm going to forgive your display of insolence since you were just hatched." His laughter finally dries up, and his expression turns dark. "We travel tonight. The two of you will come with me, but Carlisle and Alice shall remain here as insurance. If anything untoward should happen to me or any of my people . . . well, you can use your imagination."

**~*RK*~ **

We take the Cullen jet back home. Aro brings Alec, Renata, and a handful of other members of the Volturi I'm not familiar with. Bags of human blood are handed out once we're in the air since Aro wasn't willing to "diddle around." Nobody speaks during the interminable flight. Isabella spends the entire time in my lap, wrapped around me with her face buried in my neck.

After we land, Aro leads us through the forest to the border of Quileute land. Before we reach the treaty line, I see columns of smoke billowing into the sky, and a feeling of foreboding settles between my shoulder blades.

Jane, Felix, and Demetri morph out of the shadows; they're already on the reservation.

"Oh my God." Isabella's anguished whisper cuts through me.

Aro leads Isabella and me onto the reservation, his face grim, and tells the others with us to stay behind and remain watchful. When he reaches the waiting trio, he turns to face us. "Normally, your wolves would be here by now, ripping and tearing, yes?" His eyes are on Isabella again. I don't know why this disturbs me so, but I have to restrain myself yet again.

"Yes."

"And yet, they are nowhere." Aro sweeps an arm out, his lips twisting into an ugly sneer. "When my people arrived here, do you know what they found?"

"What?"

"Emptiness. The reservation was abandoned. Like the Mayans, an entire people disappeared without a trace. Embers from a fire still red hot, a warm teakettle on a stove, food laid out for a meal never to be consumed. Lights were still on in many homes, but not one person or shape-shifter could be rustled up."

I glance to the sky where billows of smoke continue to rise. The air near the ground is beginning to fog over with it. "And what of that, Aro?"

He bares his teeth with a ragged growl. "I ordered it all to be burned to the ground! The scent of the miracle child was all over this place, and _I want her_!"

Isabella falls to her knees, sifting dirt through her fingers. "So you burned their homes? What kind of sick bastard are you?"

"One that always gets what he wants!" Aro bellows.

I kneel beside Isabella and rub her back. "I'm sorry."

Aro snorts. "You have no idea what sorry is. Demetri, why don't you tell them what you found when I had you track them and their coven?"

The malicious tone causes me to glance up. Aro's eyes glitter with satisfaction.

Demetri hangs his head. "I'm sorry, Edward. When we found out you and Isabella flew to Italy, Aro requested I track the rest of your family. The trail led to Spain, to Hunter's compound. We found their . . . remains. Esme, Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper."

"Oh dear God," Isabella whispers.

"No!" I shake my head. Surely this can't be true because Jasper was in Italy while we were there, and although Esme and Emmett were together, Rose was sent elsewhere. This isn't right, but I can't let on that something is amiss.

My attention is drawn to Jane. There's a faraway look in her eyes, and I'm drawn into her memories of Spain.

_Demetri led them through the woods behind the compound, which was now deserted, and dug up the remains of several vampires. The bodies had already turned to dust, but Demetri assured them he'd tracked the signature of each of my family members to the surrounding shallow graves. _

_Jane stepped forward to look at the bluish glittering dust. "This is all that's left? Impossible."_

_Demetri glared up at her. "Oh, it's true. You have no idea what I've seen, little girl." He held up a handful of the remains. "Take a sniff—it's unmistakably vampire."_

"_Enough of this." Jane turned and stalked away._

_A rustling in the woods drew their attention, and they slipped into the cover of the forest to watch. Several men in white hazmat suits, complete with helmets and breathing apparatus, came up the mountain trail. Emblazoned in the center of their chests was the strange blue symbol I'd seen on the top of Hunter's lab tests when I went through the boxes stored in the attic at the compound._

From my indrawn breath, Jane realizes I'm reading her and snarls at me. _Get out of my head!_

I look away toward the trees, knowing it wouldn't be wise to bait her. Who the hell were the hazmat guys, and why did they have the logo on their suits from the lab that conducted Hunter's testing? I know Demetri's lying about the bodies being my family members but don't understand why he'd risk it. His mind is closed off; he keeps playing the memory of uncovering the bodies in Spain over and over again, concealing the truth that lies beneath.

Aro strides forward, towering over us, and glares down on Isabella. "Do you see all that has been lost already? An entire people—gone. Half of your new coven—dead. I want the child!" He grabs Isabella's jaw in his bony hand. "If I don't get what I want, everyone you love will die before your eyes. I'll begin with Alice and Carlisle, and then I'll dismember Edward in front of you—piece by piece, bit by bit, until there's nothing left."

Isabella smacks his hand away and rises to her feet, chin jutting out defiantly. "No, you won't. You can't read me. If you harm a hair on any of their heads, you'll get _nothing_ out of me. I'm the only one who _can_ give you the cure."

"What are you talking about?" Aro's voice drops to a whisper, and he grabs her hand.

Despite how tight his grip must be, a self-satisfied smirk spreads across Isabella's face. "All the answers are up here." She taps the side of her head with an index finger. "The cure, the serum, and information about the organization doing research on vampires."

Several shocked faces turn her way. Jane's gaze snaps to Isabella, and fear emanates from her eyes. Those people in hazmat suits she saw in Spain are probably from the organization Isabella is referring to. I'm shocked by Isabella's words myself; she never mentioned anything like this to me. It takes a great deal of effort not to let on that I was in the dark along with everyone else.

Aro drops Isabella's hand, looking haunted. If a vampire could go pale, I think he'd be white as a sheet. "I don't believe you."

Jane glides up beside him. "Master, the men . . . in the suits . . ."

Aro turns his head sharply, his fierce gaze meeting Jane's. Intimidated, she looks down and backs away.

Isabella goes on. "Believe what you will. Just remember that it's human nature to fight to stay at the top of the food chain. Do you really believe the Volturi will be safe in this new world?"

"New world? What the hell are you talking about?" Aro swings to face her again.

"When they discover the secret to immortality, that they have the ability to choose who receives it, who lives, and who dies—when that day arrives, the Volturi will become obsolete, a threat that must be extinguished."

"We _are_ the top of the food chain."

"Maybe not for long. There are more of us out there. More like me and James—with the anomaly. Think of it, Aro. If they figure out how to infect the masses with the anomaly, and they also have the cure, control over the population of humans _and _vampires will rest in their hands."

Felix leaves Demetri's side, coming closer, his features transformed by abject terror. "They could starve us out, kill us off." His voice shakes. "We could be at someone else's mercy. Do something, Master!"

"Shut up, you fool!" Aro shakes with rage and turns back to Isabella—strands of inky hair lay across his cheek, and his robe is askew. "Listen closely, my dear. This . . . organization . . . it can't be allowed to succeed."

"I agree completely."

Aro tilts his head. "You do?"

"Of course. They must be stopped." Her eyes harden. "_No one_ should have that kind of power."

He purses his lips, obviously disagreeing. I'm sure Aro believes the Volturi should have _exactly_ such power. "Since your ex-husband did all this, I hold you responsible by proxy."

I move to Isabella's side with a growl. "She's not responsible for what that slime was involved in! She was his _victim._ Her child was his victim. He acted alone."

"Really? You believe Hunter was working alone? He figured out the existence of vampires with no assistance whatsoever?" Aro barks a harsh laugh.

An unsettling lurch twists my gut. He's right—Hunter couldn't have figured all this out on his own. My brows draw together, and my jaw tightens. I hate that Aro's right. "Okay, I suppose he couldn't have done it _alone_, but that doesn't make Isabella responsible."

"That may be so by some standards of fairness. The fact is, she knows more about all of this than any of us—even you, Edward." Aro smiles craftily. His gaze flicks back to Isabella. "You will eliminate any threat to our kind or Carlisle and Alice will die long before this organization has a chance in hell of taking on the Volturi! Furthermore, you will either deliver the child to me or deliver the formulas for the serum and cure. Carlisle and Alice will remain my guests for now."

Isabella stands straighter, examining Aro with a determined, appraising expression. "If I eliminate this threat and give you the formulas, you'll set us all free? No more talk of treason and execution?"

Aro considers this for a moment, then relents. "You have a deal. Give me the formulas."

Isabella laughs. "Not on your life. You get nothing until this organization is neutralized, and we return to Italy to collect on our deal."

Aro smiles grimly. "You drive a hard bargain, lass. Don't muck this up—there are many lives hanging in the balance." He turns in a flutter of robes and gestures to the small group huddled behind us. "Let's go."

They all seem eager to comply, with the exception of Demetri, who hangs toward the tail end.

"Wait," I call out. "We need Demetri. Surely you can't expect the two of us to do this alone. Besides, his tracking abilities will be vital to the success of this insane mission."

"Very well. Demetri is a free agent at the moment." Aro glares Demetri's way. "Let me be clear—if you fail, there will be a reconciling, and it won't include leniency."

"I'll go with them," Demetri says. _As if you'd give me leniency anyway. You were probably going to kill me as soon as we got to Italy. _

Seconds later, it's just the three of us—Isabella, Demetri, and me. We look at one another warily. I'm still reeling from Isabella's admission that she knew about the men Jane saw recently at the compound in Spain.

Isabella turns and strides onto the reservation.

"Demetri, wait for us at the house," I say, moving to follow Isabella.

"Okay."

"Don't even think of taking off."

"Really, Edward? Where the fuck would I go?"

Satisfied Demetri will be at the house when we get back, I go after Isabella. She moves fast, straight for Sue's place. I want to shelter her from the devastation that's surely ahead, but I realize my fiercely independent mate won't appreciate my interference. It's more likely she'll hand my ass to me right after kicking it.

As she emerges from the woods into Sue's backyard, I shadow her. The adorable little house where we had dinner and played with Hannah is just a pile of smoking rubble. The blackened chimney is all that stands against the waning light.

Isabella's quick strides slow until she's barely moving. "Oh, Mom. Your little house." Her voice breaks. She kneels in the scorched grass, letting out dry sobs. "Damn it all to hell! I can't cry."

I fall to my knees in front of her, blocking her view of the destruction, and take her beautiful face between my palms. "I'm so sorry, sweet one." With a tug, I pull her into my arms, and she sinks against me. Her arms wind around me so tightly it's painful, but I don't care. I don't care about the challenge that's ahead of us; I don't care that she lied to me; my only goal is to console her. There's time for all that later on.

After a while, she lifts her head and gazes up at me. "Do you think Hannah is safe?"

"Absolutely."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Isabella, the entire tribe is gone. If vampires were subject to human maladies, Aro would have stroked out." I caress her cheek and brush a few strands of hair out of her eyes. "Jasper was able to warn them—I'm sure of it. They got Hannah out of here."

Finally, her mouth curves into the ghost of a smile. "You're right. Yeah. I want to find her as soon as possible, but . . ." Her eyes cloud over.

"But we have work to do, and it's best if we leave the 'miracle child' out of harm's way." I chuck her under the chin. "The wolves will protect her until we find each other again."

"Edward, I'm sorry I lied to you. I never . . ." She shakes her head.

"Shh . . ." I stop her words by pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Why don't we head over to our cottage? It's a much better place for this conversation."

"Sure." She smiles a little wider and links her fingers in mine. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Ah! Must I gag you?"

"In another place and time that could be great fun, but no. I'll go quietly."

In no time at all, we're home. The cottage has an air of home, of peace. This is where we spent most of our short, but intense, relationship. This is where we made love for the first time and where I woke from my comatose state to the sight of Isabella's beauty.

I sweep her off her feet and carry her over the threshold. We haven't been here since she took my name.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Masen." I gaze down at her exquisite face. "Though our troubles are many, we belong to each other forever, and I'll do everything in my power to see this through."

Isabella strokes my face. "I know you will."

Though she doesn't sleep anymore, and I haven't for nearly a century, my feet carry us to the bedroom. Somehow it seems central to us—it's where I've loved her, where she curled next to me as I fought to return to her.

I lay her on top of the duvet and join her. We face each other, and I reach out to trace the graceful slope of her cheek. "It seems my wife has secrets."

"It was necessary. Aro might have read you . . ."

"How were you so sure he couldn't read _you_?"

"Alice."

"You took the cure before we went to Italy?"

"We all did." She lifts her head, looking at me with concern. "Hey, your family's really alive, right?"

"They must be. None of them were going to Spain. They weren't even together. When we talk to Demetri, we'll find out the truth, but it looks to me like he led the Volturi to the victims he and I found when we went to Spain." Thoughts of the way I returned from there—in a coma with a broken body—cause me to shudder.

"Thank God. I don't know why Demetri's helping us, but I'm really glad."

"Me, too." I gaze into her eyes and tap her nose with my index finger. "Want to tell me what you know about this secret organization now?"

Isabella smiles, an odd look coming over her features. "Well, I don't know anything for sure."

"You don't. Then what _was_ all that back there?"

"That was me hedging my bets that Aro would take the bait. Don't get me wrong—I _do_ believe there's an organization and that James was working with them. Let's just say there are a lot of little things that are starting to come together in my mind. I saw and heard stuff that didn't make sense to me at the time, but when I saw James in Italy, it started coming together."

"Why do you think that is?"

Isabella's lips twist into a sardonic smile. "Being exposed to his special brand of asshole might have something to do with it. It was a fantastic reminder how unlikely it is that James figured out anything about vampires all on his own or that he thought of experimenting on them_or_ that he was the one to design that atomizer. I did live with the man for a few years, you know."

An involuntary growl rumbles in my chest. The thought of Isabella or Hannah at the mercy of Hunter for even a moment still ignites anger inside me. I'll never have the satisfaction of crushing Hunter in my hands, but the fact Isabella was the one to mete out justice makes me feel better.

I roll on my back and stare up at the ceiling, contemplating Isabella's words. Hunter was intelligent in a pull-the-wool-over-your-eyes smarmy politician kind of way, but it's not likely he designed and built the atomizer—or that he discovered the existence of vampires and realized he had an anomaly that precluded him from immortality. It was a further stretch to believe he decided and implemented those experiments on his own.

"You're right. No way Hunter was working alone. Tell me what you know."

"There's the calculating Edward Masen in action," Isabella says with satisfaction. She shifts on the bed, resting her head on her arm. "Before I knew our life was merely a farce, I came across some papers on James' desk one day—lab reports on him. They had that weird blue logo on top, but I didn't really have a chance to look at the results before he stalked into the room and snatched them from my hands. When I expressed concern, he just said it was a confidential lab he used because of his political career. He didn't want rumors circulating about his health. The funny thing? He never used them to test me or Hannah. Thinking back on it now, I think he was protecting us in some way, keeping us a secret."

"That I can believe. Hunter was all about stacking the deck and playing the odds. Who knows what they would have done if they knew about you and Hannah? I'm sure he was using them as much as they were using him."

"Now what?" Isabella rubs her temples.

"Jane last spotted men from that organization in hazmat suits in Spain, so that's where we go. I want to get my hands on those files in the attic of the compound. Maybe there's an address or some other identifier in those papers."

"Hazmat suits?"

I smirk. "They obviously aren't entirely sure what they're dealing with, which is a big plus in our favor. We have the serum, the cure, and knowledge about vampires on our side."

"How's Demetri going to react to the news?"

"He'll do what we need him to, or I'll hand-deliver him to Aro myself."

"What about the rest of your family?"

I roll toward Isabella and cup her cheek, pressing my lips to hers. "Part of me wants to leave you behind while I do this, but I can't bear to let you out of my sight again. Let's take Demetri to Spain and see what we find out. Then we can figure out what part the rest of _our_ family will play in this. They're yours now, too."

Isabella smiles. "Yeah, they are. I went from no family, other than Hannah, to finding all of you and my mother. God is good."

"Let's hope God likes Spain then."

Like muscle memory, my entire body balks at the mere suggestion of going back to Spain. It seems to be the epicenter of the tempest, though, and the only way to victory is to fight our way from the inside out without being torn to pieces in the process.

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: A lot going on in this chapter. I tried to make things as clear as possible—hope I did my job. Where are Hannah and the tribe? What are you thinking about Aro? Where do you think the clues might lead Edward and Isabella?**

**I'm hard at work on the next chapter of ****_I Want it Painted Black_****! It's a toughy, so I make no promises as to when it will be out. I'm hoping in 1-2 weeks, if all goes well. Haha.**

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	37. Chapter 37 Shadow of Truth

**A/N: My dear readers, there are no words to express how sorry I am for taking so long to update this. For the longest time, the words wouldn't come. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to those of you willing to stick with me. Mwah!**

**A trip to Spain with Edward for my awesome prereaders, Keye, Sandy, and Aleea, and my hard-working, word-detangling betas, Katmom and SassySue (chayasara).**

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><p><strong>Chapter 37<strong>

**~Shadow of Truth~**

_**The art of simplicity is a puzzle of complexity.**_

**~Douglas Horton**

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><p>The village of Sanlúcar de Guadiana slumbers peacefully. Smoke curls lazily from its many chimneys, creating a soft haze in the star-filled sky. Water laps against boats tethered to the docks. The only other sound cutting through the night is an occasional barking dog.<p>

Being back here isn't as difficult as I anticipated. Looking toward the compound at the top of the hill and knowing James Hunter is in hell where he belongs is satisfying. I've returned to the scene of his crime; he never will.

Isabella stands beside me, our fingers linked. She leans her head on my arm. "It's a beautiful little village. So peaceful. Hard to believe such atrocities were going on up in those woods."

"Might still be going on. Hunter wasn't working at this alone."

A fish leaps out of the water, making a soft splash as it goes back under. When this is over, I'd love to spend some time here. There's something rejuvenating in the atmosphere.

Isabella glances at her watch and curls her fingers in my palm. "We're due to meet Demetri."

"Let's go."

We decided to split up when we arrived. Isabella and I came in past the village while Demetri approached from behind, staking out the road to the compound. I check my cell and have no texts. We agreed to complete stealth unless an emergency arose.

The two of us easily navigate the steeply sloped, rocky terrain, reaching the rear-facing side of the mountain with five minutes to spare. I don't see Demetri yet, but the tenor of his thoughts is clear out here in the woods; I'm still having problems reading in crowds.

I stand behind a tree with Isabella until Demetri hoots like an owl, our signal to meet. We gather at the gravesite of the unfortunate vampires who took Hunter up on his offer of "money and clothes in exchange for simple tasks."

The remains are gone, the churned-up dirt patted down. I squat, running my fingers through the rich soil, and bring up a handful, allowing it to sift slowly back to the ground. Minuscule iridescent flakes of vampire dust glint amid the dull brown. The untrained eye would think nothing of this. I wave a handful under my nose; the scent of vampire is faint.

I glance up at Isabella and Demetri. "Someone did a thorough job cleaning this up. Nobody would realize what happened here unless specifically searching for it."

Demetri grimaces. "I don't know whether to be nervous or terrified about that. Whoever is behind this knows what they're doing. Who knows what else they have up their sleeves?"

I rise and shoot Demetri a hard look. "Will you be able to hold it together? Because there's no room for fear or failure. Our _only_ option is to win."

"Yeah, man! I'm with you." Demetri glares back at me.

Isabella grabs Demetri's arm, a firm set to her jaw, and leans in close to his face. "Good, because our daughter's life is hanging in the balance. There's no shame in stepping back, but don't falter in the midst of things."

I don't miss that Isabella said "our" daughter and take a millisecond to bask in the glow of that knowledge.

Demetri's stiff posture softens. "I promise not to let you guys down. Whatever needs to be done, I'll do it. You'll be back with Hannah soon."

Isabella stares into his face a few seconds longer before stepping away with a nod. "Okay."

"Did you see anything when you were watching the road?" I ask Demetri.

"All quiet. That doesn't mean there's nobody up there."

"I want to get a look at the papers in the attic again. There was a logo on Hunter's lab work, and I saw the same one on the hazmat suits in Jane's mind. I think we need to start there."

Demetri nods. "I remember it well."

Bluish dawn light surrounds us as we reach the top of the drive. We neither hear nor sense any beings—human or vampire. The compound is deserted, but it's obviously being maintained and used somewhat regularly.

Isabella and Demetri roam the grounds while I go through the boxes in the attic. Everything is as I left it. I grab Hunter's experiment journal, a folder filled with his testing, and the lab work on Isabella from Forks General.

Downstairs, the house seems much the same. I hesitate a moment before descending to the basement level, echoes of what happened last time filling my thoughts.

The sterile laboratory is still in use. Recently cleaned-up blood spatter patterns mark numerous surfaces. There are no bodies, but in a walk-in cooler, I find a large bin containing dust from the remains of several vampires. Racks line one side with myriad test tubes and petri dishes filled with vampire dust, anomaly-tainted blood, or a mixture of both. There are no logs of the experiments here. Whoever is in charge either uses digital files or keeps the information with them.

When the three of us meet up outside, pale yellow radiance brightens the sky. We'll have to be cautious of the sun today. We assemble at a table on the outdoor deck. From a distance, it might seem we're enjoying an early morning chat.

"Anything?" Isabella asks.

"The files were still in the attic. I took Hunter's test results, his journal, and the few papers he had on you. I want to ship all of it to Rose. Maybe she can do some research on the logo." I hesitate a moment, drumming my fingers lightly on the table. "I also checked out the laboratory."

Isabella nods, watching me evenly.

Demetri's eyes widen with curiosity. "What's down there?"

I bite back the sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue. I'm well aware the coward tried to hold Emmett back while Hunter shot me in the face and shattered my chest. "Evidence the experiments continue. There's a box of mixed vampire remains and loads of test tubes and petri dishes. Not a stitch of paperwork, though."

Isabella bites her lip. "What's our plan, other than sending stuff to Rose?"

"We need to watch this place and see who shows up." I take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "I know this is hard for you, sweet one. It will be over soon, and then we can find Hannah and get our family back together."

Isabella agrees, but she still looks uncomfortable. "Edward, I'm . . . thirsty."

It's just like my mate to feel shame about her own needs. This is one problem I can easily remedy. "Let's go hunting, then. Demetri?"

He pats his belly. "I'm sloshing. You two go ahead. I'll keep lookout."

I lead Isabella out of the compound into the surrounding woods. "We'll have to settle for animal blood."

"I can deal with that. Are _you_ okay with it?"

"Yes, when it's my choice."

We hover at the edge of a clearing, and I close my eyes, listening to the sounds around us. There isn't much wildlife nearby, probably a side-effect from all the vampires in the area. Eventually, a stag wanders several meters to our left. There's only one, and I consider that he might be checking out the area before bringing his family here.

I open my eyes and catch Isabella's attention, pointing in the direction of the deer. She nods, waiting until he comes a bit closer before taking off. A few seconds later, there's a solid _whump!_ as Isabella takes the stag down. He gets off one squeal before she breaks his neck. The sounds of his distress and the snapping of bone echo through the air, and every other creature within range takes off.

I'm not that thirsty anyway—especially for watered-down sludge. I do, however, hunger to watch my mate feed. Part of me knows it's wrong to watch without being invited, but I can't stem the urge to stalk quietly through the trees until their figures come into view.

Isabella crouches over the stag, drinking from him. It was kind of her to crack his neck first. She knows adrenaline enhances the taste and that the bodies tend to cool off faster with an early death. Watching her ruby lips take long pulls from his jugular while her lids flutter closed as she savors each mouthful causes a primal stirring in my abdomen. I bite back a growl, not wishing to announce my presence.

Isabella finishes and lays the body on the ground with such tenderness. She strokes the dead stag's neck and whispers, "Thank you for your sacrifice." And then she looks directly at me.

I duck my head, slightly embarrassed. "You knew I was here?"

She licks a droplet of blood from her lip and places a hand over her chest. "I still feel you, Edward." I blink and she's directly in front of me, caressing my face. "I hope that awareness never fades."

I wrap my arms around Isabella's glorious curves, pressing our bodies together, and lower my head to kiss her. Our tongues mingle, and I don't mind the taste of her kill mixed with her sweet venom. She winds her arms around my neck and pins me to the trunk of a tree, releasing soft sounds that remind me of her not-so-distant human days.

I slouch against the rough bark, holding Isabella by the hips. She leans in closer, pressing her chest to mine and hooking a shapely leg around my thigh.

"I love you," she whispers along my jaw.

I groan. She has a way of bringing me to the boiling point with a word, a touch. I grip her tighter and roll my hips, letting her feel me. "Little minx, how I want you right here."

Her answer is to slip her hands beneath my shirt and scratch her nails over my abs, lifting higher to tease my sensitive nipples. I grasp her wrists and pull her hands away.

"Edward . . ."

"Be good."

"I don't want to be good." She brushes her lips over mine and pants. "I want to touch you _all_ over."

Our lips connect in a searing kiss, and I cup the back of her head, my other hand supporting her ass as she wraps her legs around my waist. We don't remove our clothes, but Isabella rides me until her head tips back with an erotic whimper, and every muscle in her body goes taut. Just as quickly, she goes limp and slides down my body, looking up at me.

"Your turn." Isabella reaches for my belt buckle.

I lay a hand over hers. "No." For some reason, the thought of my mate on her knees out here in the woods is unappealing.

"Why not?"

"Isabella." I shake my head and help her stand. "Not here. Not like this."

"I'm not fragile anymore." Her lower lip pouts a little.

I cup her face and gaze into eyes sparking with annoyance. It's strange to see the flat brown contacts looking back at me and knowing it's what she sees in my eyes as well. "I'm painfully aware you could break me in half. It's something I can't put into words, but I have no desire to see you on your knees here."

Isabella nods, nuzzling her cheek into my left palm. "It's because of _him_. This was his territory."

Something pulls tight inside me. "Perhaps."

There's a disturbance in the tops of the trees, rushing toward us. I stiffen, tucking Isabella behind me out of habit.

Demetri drops to the ground beside us, sending a small cloud of dirt into the air. "They're coming!"

"Who?" I ask.

Isabella slips around to stand next to me.

"There are two pickup trucks full of guys in hazmat suits. If we hurry, we can get into position before they arrive."

I grab Demetri's arm. "Where's the stuff I took from the compound?"

"I put it back in the attic because you said it was undisturbed up there."

"Good. You stake out the top of the drive with Isabella. I'm going inside to see what information I can find out."

Isabella turns her head sharply. "Edward, I think we should stay together."

"Someone needs to get close, and I know my way around inside."

"But—"

"We're all immune. There's nothing they can do to us now."

Isabella nods grudgingly. "Okay."

The sun is higher in the sky now, piercing the hazy clouds and projecting dappled patterns through the trees. The occasional prism reflects off our skin; if anyone sees us, they'll immediately know we're vampires.

Demetri and Isabella hide in the upper branches of a tree, under the cover of its ample foliage. No human could detect their presence there. I continue into the compound and decide to hide in the attic where I'll be able to hear everything in the building and go undetected. The information I gathered earlier is piled in the corner. My fingers itch to send it off to Rose.

The drone of two straining engines climbing the access road draws closer until the sound levels off. As the trucks pull into the compound, I hear fifteen individual heartbeats.

Peeking through a vent in the wall, I make out figures in hazmat suits, with hoods hanging loose in back, hopping from a truck bed. The other vehicle is out of my line of sight.

There are too many minds for me to follow, and I end up with a jumble of disjointed sounds. They waste no time, entering from multiple points. Several sets of footsteps come through the front door. The thick metal door of the laboratory swings open, and that's where the bulk of them go.

The chatter downstairs is not in English. I tilt my head and listen closer. _Japanese._ Not a language I'm fluent in. When I manage to zero in on any of the minds below, all thoughts are in Japanese. Fuck me.

I gather the files on Hunter and Isabella and wait until the groups appear settled into their activities before attempting to leave. Slithering out the attic window onto the roof, I pan the area then run across the compound and leap the wall. If anyone were outside, they'd simply feel a slight breeze.

I hold a finger to my lips when I light on a branch next to Isabella and Demetri. The three of us flit from treetop to treetop, a wake of fluttering leaves and scattering wildlife behind us. We don't stop until we reach the modest villa we rented as a home base. Thankfully, the villa backs up to the woods, and there are no nearby neighbors, allowing us to enter through the rear entrance even in full sun.

Once inside, I place the files on the kitchen counter and bow my head. This just became a great deal more difficult.

"Edward, what happened?" Isabella slips her arms around my waist, pressing her chest to my back. I remember how I loved the warmth when she was human, but I appreciate her strength now.

I slide my hands over hers, holding them against me. "Those guys in hazmat suits are Japanese. They don't speak—or think—in English."

"Shit!" Demetri strides into the room and lets several more choice words fly in a creative combination of English and Italian.

"Oh," is all Isabella says.

I turn in her embrace and observe her not-so-shocked face. "You don't seem surprised."

"It makes a weird kind of sense, actually. James spoke fluent Japanese. He had business dealings in Japan."

"I don't suppose either of you speaks Japanese?" I ask rhetorically. "Okay, change of plans. We need to overnight these files to Alaska so Rose can start doing research, and we need someone who can translate Japanese."

Demetri opens his mouth, but I hold a hand up. "Preferably someone on _our_ payroll, not the Volturi's."

"Good point," he says. "We're fucked."

"Give me some time to think." I part the curtains over the kitchen sink and peer up at the sky. The sun is high and glorious, the earlier haziness completely burned away. "We can't be seen in public today. I'll get someone to pick this up."

An hour later, a courier service arrives to collect the package. Afterward, I retreat to the deck to call Rose. The shadows have grown long back here, and the late afternoon rays bear down on the front of the house now. I lean back in a metal chair and prop my feet on the table, pulling out my cell and thumbing through my contacts.

"Hey, Edward."

"Rose. How's Alaska?"

"Cold. Boring. Lonely as fuck without Em."

"I'll bet." I smirk. "Have you spoken to him?"

"Yeah. He and Esme are in Italy. They want to be close to Carlisle and Alice in case . . . of anything."

"Good."

"Any word from Jas?"

"No. He took off to warn the Quileute and get Hannah out of there." I hesitate, and she picks up on it.

"And?"

"A lot's happened since I spoke to you. Aro brought Hunter to Italy. He thought it would be amusing to toy with Hunter and Isabella. Hunter went wild when he realized she was a vampire. They had words, and he tried to spray Isabella with his atomizer—except she was immune. Long story short, Hunter couldn't keep his disgusting mouth shut, and Isabella snapped his neck."

"Shit! Go, Isabella! Wish I could've been there." Rose laughs throatily. "What did Aro do?"

My mood grows somber. "He forced us to fly back to Washington with him. He sent others ahead to scout for Hannah." I let out a string of expletives directed at Aro.

"Edward, my God!"

"When the Volturi arrived, the entire tribe was gone. Aro had his minions burn down every house on the reservation. Everything—wiped out."

"But they escaped?"

"Jasper must have warned them in time. Aro went fucking nuts."

She laughs. "No doubt. Thank God they got out. Where did they take Hannah?"

"I have no idea, and we need to keep it that way until this is resolved. We can't chance Aro reading one of us and finding out where Hannah is."

"True. Crazy bastard. What's next?"

"There's a package on its way to you—Hunter's experiment journal and lab tests. There are also some papers on Isabella I didn't feel comfortable leaving behind. There's a blue logo on top of Hunter's lab tests. If you could do some research, see if you can find out the origins. It might lead us to the mastermind behind all this."

"I thought Hunter was behind it." The creak of leather comes over the line, and I imagine her settling back against the sectional in the Denali living room.

"Over and over we've concluded that Hunter was smarmy and unethical but not smart enough to pull this shit off himself. He was a puppet."

"So we need to find out whose arm was up his ass." I picture Rose's smirk in my mind.

"That's one way of putting it. I snuck into the attic of the compound today and spied on these guys. Thing is, I couldn't understand a word or thought from any of them because they're Japanese."

"Japanese! What the ever-loving fuck?"

"Isabella wasn't surprised. Hunter spoke fluent Japanese and had business associates in Japan. Maybe you can poke through the papers when you get them and see if there are any connections. I wish one of us spoke Japanese."

"I can help with that. Irina speaks Japanese."

"She does?"

"Had an affair with an emperor way back when."

"Hmm." I tip my head and look up at the sky for a few moments, cultivating an idea. "If I record some of their conversations, maybe Irina can translate for me."

"Perfect."

When I'm done talking to Rose, I go back inside and outline my plan. Demetri and I sift through his stash of electronics. In the end, we choose to keep it simple and use MP3 players that can record several hours of audio and switch them out a few times a day. We all agree it's impossible to move forward until we understand what the enemy is up to. I'd also like to know who's in charge. If we cut off the head, the rest of the organization might topple.

Over the next three days, I slip in and out of the compound, switching the recorders. There are many hours of silence, but the audio we do get is fairly clear. I transfer the files to my laptop and email them to Rose.

We schedule a video chat with Irina. Demetri, Isabella, and I gather around the kitchen island and open a chat session. Rose and Irina sit next to each other, crowding into the screen.

"Hey, all." Rose waves.

Irina leans forward, her straight blond hair swinging in front of her shoulder. "Hello, Edward! This must be your lovely mate, Isabella."

"Nice to meet you, Irina. Thanks for helping us out." Isabella smiles graciously.

"And who is this handsome devil?" Irina gestures to my right.

"This is Demetri. He's a former Volturi tracker. He's decided to work for the winning side."

"Hello, Demetri."

"The pleasure is all mine, lovely lady."

I jab Demetri in the ribs. "What do you have for us, Irina?"

Her expression turns serious. "Well, there's one guy that seems to give out all the orders. He keeps referring to someone above him as 'the pale king.' I haven't been able to figure out who that is exactly, but the Japanese speak of him with both contempt and fear."

"I have no idea who they're referring to. Have you heard them mention James Hunter?"

"Yes. He apparently went on a mission and missed the past few call-ins. They're beginning to get concerned about him. I'm not sure what they expect from him, though."

"Hunter's dead. Does this head guy have a name?"

"Everyone calls him Kato—at least to his face." Irina sighs, looking down at her lap. "Edward, this is bigger than you realize."

"What's bigger than trying to control the existence of the vampire population?"

"Their goal is to amass an army of vampires to bring the United States to its knees."

**~*RK*~**

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><p><strong>AN: Any theories you want to toss out? Little factoid: Edward does not speak Japanese in this fic because most fics pose Edward as the perfect man who speaks every language fluently. Extra Credit: Can you guess where Hannah was taken by the wolves? She's in a location that exists in one of my other vamp fics, and there will be a cameo appearance of a character from that story.**

**Follow me on Twitter: at SaritaDreaming or at SarahAisling**

**Fanfiction blog: saritadreaming dot word press dot com**


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